Storm
by FebWriter
Summary: Third story in a series, following "Everything Is Different Now" and "Tonight and the Rest of Our Lives." An old adversary strikes back at Roger through that which means most to him: Holly. As they fight to retain the life together they've worked so hard to build, they must rely on the power and depth of their love to see them through.
1. Valentine's Day

_**Here's the next story in my alternate timeline. It follows "Everything Is Different Now" and "Tonight and the Rest of Our Lives," so you should really read those two first. There's a bit of a time jump between the end of "Tonight and the Rest of Our Lives" and "Storm," because we begin on Valentine's Day 1995, and you'll be seeing a lot of familiar faces in this story. Here we go...**_

_February 14, 1995, 1:04 PM—Springfield Journal, Holly Lindsey-Thorpe's Office_

Holly looked up from her work when she heard the knock at her door. "Come in!" she called.

The door opened to reveal Tangie Hill. "I come bearing lunch. Your usual from Company," she replied as she entered and set the white paper bag in the middle of Holly's desk. Then she noticed the green vase filled with long-stemmed red roses and baby's breath on the corner of the desk. "From Roger?" she asked knowingly.

"Thank you, and yes," Holly replied. "He's _finally _coming home today. He refuses to miss our first married Valentine's Day." She looked at the roses. "These are just the start, he says." Roger had been in New York on business since the fourth, the longest separation they'd endured yet since he had launched his own consulting firm with Blake at the beginning of the year. They talked on the phone for hours every night, the conversations only ending when one or the other of them (usually Holly) fell asleep, but there was no denying that they greatly missed what Roger called face time with each other. Holly was looking forward to lots of face, and other kinds of, time with Roger that night, and not just because it was Valentine's Day. "What about you? Do you have plans tonight?"

"Dinner with Patrick at The Towers Club," Tangie replied with a smile.

"Patrick?" Holly asked, puzzled. Then she remembered. "Oh, Detective Cutter! I'm so used to him referring to himself by his last name."

"So is he," Tangie replied dryly. "He said I'm the only person in his life who calls him by his first name."

"What did you say when he told you that?" Holly asked.

"I told him it's good to be distinctive. He agreed," Tangie replied.

"I'm almost afraid to say anything, but things have been pretty quiet out there so far today," Holly said, knocking her knuckles on her desk.

"Fletcher apparently has big plans with Alexandra tonight," Tangie said. "That accounts for his good mood."

"It's about time he was in a good mood," Holly muttered.

"He has been pretty surly all year," Tangie agreed. "And you take the brunt of it since you're the publisher and he's the editor."

Holly's phone rang then. "Excuse me," she said. She answered as she always did, "Springfield _Journal_, Holly Lindsey-Thorpe."

"I'm at O'Hare, and the second I hang up this phone, I'm getting on a plane and coming home!" Roger exclaimed happily on the other end of the line.

"You got an earlier flight?" Holly asked, her whole face lighting up. Tangie, realizing it was Roger on the phone, returned to the bullpen, quietly closing Holly's office door behind her to give her boss privacy.

"I got an earlier flight," Roger replied. "Should I just catch a cab home, or can you meet me?"

"I'll be there," Holly said firmly. "What time do you get in?"

"If there aren't any delays, a little after three," Roger said.

"I'll be waiting," Holly promised. "Hurry home."

"I'm praying for a strong tailwind," Roger replied. "I love you."

"I love you too," Holly said. "See you soon."

"'Bye," Roger said.

After hanging up the phone, Holly quickly straightened up her desk, gathered her things, including her yet-to-be eaten lunch, put on her coat, and headed out. She knew there was no way she'd be able to concentrate on work now.

"You're leaving already?" Fletcher called after her as she breezed past his desk.

For the first time all year, he didn't sound angry or disgusted, so when Holly stopped and turned around to answer Fletcher, she returned the effort by not being sarcastic. "Yes, actually," she said.

Fletcher waved her off. "It's a good day to cut out early. Not much going on," he said. "I've got this." He gestured to the bullpen.

She gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you, Fletcher," she said before hurrying to the doors leading outside.

"Just don't get used to it!" Fletcher called after her.

"I wouldn't dream of it!" Holly called back before she boarded the elevator to the parking garage.

_February 14, 1995, 3:06 PM—Springfield Airport_

As soon as Roger entered the airport proper, he saw Holly waiting for him at the gate, the very picture of excited anticipation. The light in her eyes, the faint flush of her cheeks, the smile on her face… It was difficult going ten days without seeing her, without touching her, and he hoped he would never be away from her for that long again. He was still amazed every day that Holly was finally, really his wife.

The gate wasn't too crowded, one of the perks of a Tuesday afternoon flight. Roger knew the second Holly spotted him, because her smile grew, her eyes got even brighter, and she started hurrying toward him. He lengthened his own stride, and it was mere seconds before he dropped his briefcase and garment bag at his sides, picked her up and swung her around, capturing her lips in a kiss filled with promise. They were still kissing when he gently set her back on her feet, her hands gripping his shoulders as his arms encircled her waist. When the need for oxygen forced the kiss to end, he rested his forehead against hers for a moment. "Oh, I missed you," she whispered, touching his face.

"I missed you too," he whispered back. He bent to retrieve his briefcase and garment bag, and Holly threaded her arm through his as they headed for the baggage claim.

Once they had claimed his suitcase and were in the car, Roger asked, "So, do you have to go back to the office?"

She glanced away from the road to beam at him. "No," she said. "We have the whole rest of the day…and night."

"Good," Roger said. "I'd hate to think we had to rush anything."

"Speaking of a rush, what did McNamara decide?" Holly asked, seeking a safe topic of conversation that would distract her from the feeling of Roger's hand resting on her thigh.

"He decided to hire Thorpe and Marler," Roger said. "This will be the firm's first major job. It could open a lot of doors for us."

"Oh, Roger, that's wonderful!" Holly exclaimed happily. "I'm so proud of you!"

"I'm proud of me too," Roger admitted. "Before now, I was always doing some other company's bidding, or trying to. But this time, it's all me. Well, me and Chrissy. I'm not doing this for anybody else's company, I'm doing it for mine. And I have to say, I like the feeling. I like it a lot."

"I loved the roses," Holly told him then. "Thank you."

"Like I said in the card, those are just the beginning," he said. The hand he had resting on her thigh began slowly inching up under her skirt then.

Holly glanced from the road to him again, and the look in her eyes would have melted steel. "Are you trying to make me wreck the car?" she asked.

"It's been ten days, Holly," Roger said.

"Ten interminably long days," she agreed. "But if your fingers move even half an inch higher, I'll crash the car, I know it." She paused, then said, "We'll be home in five minutes. If you can control yourself until then, I'll give you the most mind-blowing welcome home you've had yet."

Roger groaned at the images that flashed across his mind at Holly's words, but removed his hand from her thigh. Five minutes later, Holly screeched the car to a halt in the driveway. "Should we get your luggage later?" she asked.

"Yes," Roger said. He picked up his briefcase from the floor then. "I do want to take this inside, though, since your Valentine's presents are in it."

"I got you something too," Holly told him as they got out of the car. At the gleam in his eyes, she said, "Besides that, I mean."

"So, presents now or later?" Roger asked as Holly unlocked the front door and he followed her inside.

Holly closed and locked the front door, then pushed Roger up against it. "Later," she said before grabbing his face and planting a sizzling kiss on his lips. Roger responded instinctively, dropping his briefcase, wrapping his arms around Holly, pulling her flush against him, and giving her a sizzling kiss in return. His hands roamed up and down her back as hers moved to his shoulders. Seconds later, they were leaving a trail of clothes from in front of the front door past the couch and down the hall to their bedroom.

They were both half-naked by the time they tumbled onto their bed in a tangle of limbs, lips roaming over each other's faces and necks the whole time. As she fumbled with his belt and zipper, he noticed the black satin chemise she was wearing now that her jacket and turtleneck were somewhere in the living room…or possibly the hall. "This is new, isn't it?" he asked breathlessly as his fingers trailed along the garment's hemline.

"Yes. Admire it later, take it off now," Holly said breathlessly as she straddled his waist and put her arms up. Roger tugged the garment up and off, flinging it aside before sitting up to kiss his way down her now-bare torso. She tangled her fingers in his hair, relishing the feel of him before they got the rest of their clothes off, fell back onto the mattress together, and proceeded to get happily and thoroughly lost in each other.

_February 14, 1995, 4:27 PM—Roger and Holly's House_

"Wow," Roger said when he could speak.

Holly gave him a sated smile. "Wow yourself," she replied. "Ten days was _way_ too long, but wow is definitely right."

"Mind-blowing," Roger agreed, looking at her with a mix of awe at how incredible she was and pride that he was responsible for her sated smile. "Completely mind-blowing."

She kissed his jaw before resting her head in the crook of his neck with a contented sigh. He slowly caressed her shoulder and back as they lay there, just enjoying being in each other's arms again after what felt like an eternity apart, the longest separation of their marriage so far.

"What do you want to do about dinner?" Holly asked after several minutes. "I mean, it's still early, but…"

"It's already taken care of," Roger replied. "We have a 7:00 reservation."

"Where?" Holly asked.

"Martinelli's," Roger told her.

She sat up and looked at him. "Martinelli's? There's a one-month waiting list for a table there!"

He looked up at her with a grin. "Which is why I called the second week of January," he said.

She smiled at him. "You're remarkable," she said. "The roses, dinner at a restaurant I've been dying to try for months…"

"And the presents we didn't get to earlier…well, two of the three," he amended.

"Oh!" Holly exclaimed, remembering. "I want you to open yours before we start getting ready to go out."

Roger sat up and threw off the covers, reaching down to the floor to snag his boxers, and pulling them on once he was on his feet. "Wait here," he told Holly. He left, returning not sixty seconds later with his briefcase. He got back in bed, holding the briefcase on his lap, and opened it. Holly tried to peek and see what was in there, but he quickly turned the briefcase so she couldn't see the contents. "Let's see…" he said thoughtfully. "I think this one should be first." He took a document out of the briefcase and handed it to her.

She looked at the document. "It looks like a contract," she said.

"It **is **a contract," Roger told her, "for the station manager at WSPR. Are you interested?"

"What?" Holly asked, shocked.

"The network wants to promote Gilly to New York, and she's taking the job," Roger replied. "She's already put in her two weeks' notice. You haven't seemed to really enjoy your job at the _Journal _for a while now. Gilly getting kicked up to the network means WSPR needs a station manager. If you're interested, the job is yours."

"Station manager?" Holly asked.

"And since Gilly still did live remotes when she was station manager, the precedent is in place, so you would have the latitude to do some producing for the news or for other in-house programming, as you saw fit," Roger continued. "That's a standard contract, but we can have the station's lawyer in to negotiate something different if you want. And I can guarantee that at least one of the two principle owners would be completely hands off…in regards to the station, that is." Holly looked from the contract to Roger. "It's entirely your decision, Hol. If you want to stay at the _Journal,_ I'll support you a thousand percent. But the opportunity is there at WSPR. All you have to do is say the word, and if you're not interested, then we'll just get somebody else."

"You're right, the _Journal_ has been one headache after another for quite a while now," Holly admitted. "And I did love it at WSPR…and only partly because I was working with you, which I couldn't admit then, even to myself. The energy and the vibe there was so much different than it is at the _Journal, _and I really liked it. I don't think I realized until now just how much I've missed it."

"Is that a yes?" Roger asked.

Holly nodded and smiled. "It's a yes," she said. She held up the contract. "But I don't think we have time to iron this all out now, do we?"

"No," Roger agreed. "So we'll go over it later. Now…" He opened his briefcase again and removed a small package wrapped in red foil and tied with a white ribbon, holding it out to her.

She eagerly tore off the ribbon and wrapping to reveal the distinctive blue box of Tiffany's. She looked up at him, watching her with dancing eyes and a hopeful smile. "What did you do?" she asked him.

"I was in New York for the ten days before Valentine's Day," he reminded her. "Of course I went to Tiffany's."

Holly opened the Tiffany's box, poured the small, black velvet box out into her hand, then opened it, gasping when she saw the contents. "Oh, Roger!" she whispered. Nestled inside the box were the most gorgeous pair of emerald earrings, the round green stones set in gold winking in the dim light of the room.

"The second I saw those, they reminded me of you," Roger said softly. "The salesclerk said that emeralds are the 20th anniversary gemstone, but I didn't want to wait that long."

"I'm glad you didn't," Holly whispered emotionally. She launched herself at him and kissed him soundly. When she pulled back, she said, "They're beautiful. I'll wear them tonight. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said softly. "As for your third present, that's for later, after we get home."

"Then it's your turn!" Holly exclaimed. She carefully set the box with her new earrings on her nightstand, then opened the nightstand drawer and removed a small package wrapped in blue paper with a small silver bow. "Happy Valentine's Day," she said as she handed it to Roger.

He tore open the package to reveal a new watch. Its face was black, with white Roman numerals, white hour, minute, and second hands, and a white date indicator above the numeral six, and a stainless steel band and casing. "I had it engraved," Holly said.

Roger turned the watch over. On the back were the words, _My heart is yours until the end of time. Holly_

"I love it," he said. "Thank you." He kissed her again, and things were starting to get heated when he forced himself to pull back. "Dinner," he reminded her. "We have to get ready."

"Right," she said, letting the hand that had been cupping the back of his head drop to his shoulder. "But we'll continue this after dinner."

"Definitely," he agreed.

She kissed him again quickly. "I'm just gonna take a quick shower, and then you can have it," she said as she got out of bed, grabbed her black satin chemise from the foot of the bed, and headed for the bathroom. He would have suggested they shower together, but he knew if they did, they'd never make it out of the house.

When she returned from the shower, she was wearing the chemise as she headed for her closet. "Your turn," she said.

He turned from the dresser, where he had just removed a fresh white dress shirt, and ogled her appreciatively. "You do look amazing in that," he said.

She beamed. "So do you in those red silk boxer shorts," she replied. She bit her lip. "Dinner," she said, reminding herself more than him.

"Yes," Roger said resolutely, closing the drawer as he laid the clean shirt on his side of the bed. "It's our first Valentine's Day married. I want to show my wife a good time, even if everyone else is wondering what she's doing with me."

"They can wonder. She **_knows _**what she's doing with you, and doesn't care one whit what they think," Holly said. Roger smiled at her before heading for the shower himself.

When he returned to the bedroom, Holly was standing in front of the mirror in a long-sleeved black sequined dress that touched her knees, black silk stockings, and low black heels, putting in her earrings. He tossed his towel at the hamper, making a mental note to put it in the hamper later, put on a fresh pair of boxers (silk again, Holly noticed, but black this time) and his shirt, then went to his closet for his black suit. As he was tying his tie (red with white stripes, in honor of the holiday) in the mirror, Holly came up behind him, put his hands down at his sides, and finished tying the tie for him while looking over his shoulder at their reflections in the mirror. When she was finished, he turned to face her, and she straightened his tie before turning his collar down. "You are a goddess," he said.

She beamed at him. "You're looking very striking yourself," she said.

He held out his arm to her. "Shall we?" he asked.

She grabbed her bag from her vanity, put her arm through his, and they headed off for their Valentine's Day date.

_February 14, 1995, 6:29 PM—The Spaulding Mansion_

Fletcher smoothed his tie and carefully shifted the bouquet of lilies of the valley wrapped in cellophane to his other hand so he could check his watch. 6:30. Okay, plenty of time. Their reservation wasn't until 7:30.

He looked up when he heard voices approaching the library, but it wasn't Alexandra who entered; it was Alan and Hope. Hope was resplendent in a deep pink satin evening gown with matching wrap, her long blonde hair pulled into an elegant twist, the diamond necklace Alan had presented her with before they came downstairs glinting around her neck, and Alan cut a dashing figure in his black tuxedo with white tie and vest. Hope smiled at Fletcher. "You look very handsome, Fletcher," she said. Fletcher was wearing a navy blue suit with a crisp white dress shirt and paisley tie.

"You're looking gorgeous tonight yourself, Hope," Fletcher replied. He inclined his head at Alex's brother. "Alan."

Alan nodded to Fletcher. "Fletcher. What do you and my sister have planned for this evening?"

"Dinner at that French restaurant downtown Alex loves that I can't pronounce the name of, followed by a carriage ride," Fletcher replied. "How 'bout you kids?"

"Dinner and dancing," Hope answered. She looked to her husband with a smile, which Alan returned. This was their first Valentine's Day since Alan had been released from prison, and they were excited about it.

"We have a 7:00 reservation, Hope, so we'd better get going," Alan said.

"Have a good time," Fletcher said as they turned to leave.

"You too," Hope replied with a smile. Alan put his hand at the small of her back as they departed the library, and the closing of the front door signaled that they were gone.

A few minutes later, Alex finally entered the library, but she didn't notice Fletcher standing there with the flowers because she had her nose buried in a file folder, and she was still wearing the suit she had worn to work that day. She literally bumped into Fletcher before she noticed him standing there, holding a bouquet of lilies of the valley and dressed to the nines in an unrumpled suit and tie.

The smile didn't leave Fletcher's face. "You forgot, didn't you?" he asked knowingly.

"Forgot?" Alex asked blankly.

"Valentine's Day," Fletcher said. "But it's okay. Our reservation's not until 7:30, so you have time to get ready before we have to be there."

"Today is Valentine's Day?" Alex asked, surprised.

"Yup," Fletcher replied. "Hence the fancy noose and the freshly pressed suit." He gestured to his attire.

Alex looked uncomfortable. "Fletch…I really did forget," she said anxiously.

"Don't worry about it. We have plenty of time," he assured her.

"I'm afraid I can't go out tonight," she said regretfully.

Fletcher's smile disappeared as if a switch had been flipped. "Why not?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice even.

Alex held up the file folder. "There's a board meeting in three days, and I have to be ready for it. Alan has been doing a brilliant job of making me look unprepared lately, and that stops right now."

"It's in three days," Fletcher said.

"Yes," Alex said with a nod.

"Then you've got time to cram for it. We haven't been on an honest-to-goodness date all year, Alexandra, and it's Valentine's Day," Fletcher said. "I made plans. I made plans specifically with you, with us, in mind."

"Fletcher, there's too much for me to go over before the board meeting. I'm sorry, but I really can't go out tonight," Alex said.

Fletcher snapped then. "Of course you can't," he said sarcastically. "God forbid you give me two measly hours of your time on Valentine's Day! Valentine's Day is a day for love, for romance, for couples. The first two items on that list have been in damn short supply for us the last several months, and we barely qualify as the third item." He recalled Holly rushing out of the _Journal _shortly after one o'clock that afternoon then. The grapevine said that Roger had been out of town on business but was due back today. They were celebrating Valentine's Day. Alan and Hope were celebrating Valentine's Day. The entire free world was celebrating Valentine's Day…except for him and Alex.

The thought of everyone else he knew celebrating Valentine's Day two by two—Alan and Hope; Nick and Mindy; Ross and Blake; Vanessa and Matt; Ed and Maureen; Holly and Roger; heck, even his own son Ben had gotten up the nerve to give a Valentine's card to Michelle Bauer at school that day—made Fletcher angrier than he already was.

"Fletcher, you know I love you!" Alex exclaimed.

"Do I? Because you haven't said it or shown it in weeks. I don't need for us to be joined at the hip, sweetheart, but it would be nice if you'd occasionally notice we happen to be sleeping in the same bed…that is, when you bother to show up to sleep, since we certainly aren't doing anything else in there," he added acidly.

"Is that what this is about? The fact that I haven't been in the mood lately?" Alex asked angrily.

"I'm no sex maniac!" Fletcher exclaimed. "This is about the fact that you have no time for me at all, and it's been that way all year!"

"Now we're back to Ed and Maureen's on New Year's Eve. That was six weeks ago, Fletcher! Aren't you ever going to let it go?" Alex asked.

"Well, let's see…on New Year's Eve, you were so busy complaining about Mindy and Nick going away for the holiday that you couldn't be bothered to count down to midnight with me," he said. "Now it's Valentine's Day, and you're too busy trying to show up your brother, who happens to be out celebrating with his wife right now, to go to dinner with me. I don't know what I'm still hanging around here for. You don't seem to need me for anything but somebody to complain to when Nick is too busy to listen to it, and you don't seem to want me around at any time because I just get in the way of your corporate plotting and scheming. You didn't even know I was in here until you walked into me, for cryin' out loud!" He stalked toward the door to the library.

"The company needs all of my time and attention right now!" Alex insisted. "You know what it's been like since Alan came home."

Fletcher spun around to face Alex. "And if it wasn't Alan and the company, you'd be complaining about Nick and Mindy again," he said. "I need more in this relationship than listening to you obsess about your brother, your son's marriage, and your company, Alex. I need a hell of a lot more. For God's sake, even Roger and Holly, as twisted as their history is, have gotten it together!"

"Are you comparing me to Roger Thorpe?" Alex exploded, her voice rising an octave.

"No, because…and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I've seen it for myself for the last six weeks…Roger is a lot better at his marriage to Holly than you are at your relationship to me. I could accept it if I didn't come first with you _all_ the time, but I'd at least like to have the top spot once in a while."

He turned to the door. "Don't you walk out on me, Fletcher!" Alex warned.

He looked over his shoulder at her. "You don't need me, sweetheart, you have that exciting manila folder there!" Fletcher shouted acerbically. "You don't have to hit me over the head. I get it. You walked out on me on New Year's Eve, you're blowing me off on Valentine's Day, so don't worry, I won't bother darkening your doorstep on St. Patrick's Day. I do think I'll get started on the pub crawl a bit early, though. I'm going out, Alexandra, by myself. Enjoy your evening!" He slammed the flowers in the trash can and stormed out.

Alex angrily threw the manila folder down, scattering its contents across the rug. If Roger hadn't bailed on her back in November because he was so lovestruck about Holly, she might not feel so ill-equipped to defend her fair share of the company, and Nick's future stake in the company, against Alan and Alan-Michael. She had no problem with Alan returning to work full-time, but she didn't want to give up the amount of control she had, or gamble with Nick's rightful share of his legacy, by ceding more of Spaulding Enterprises than she felt Alan truly deserved. For all his faults, and they were legion, Roger was a brilliant businessman. But he had turned his nose up at her, and at Spaulding Enterprises, to go off and marry Holly and launch a company of his own, at the very moment she could have used his shark-like business tactics the most.

She would have to make it up to Fletcher. Maybe she could carve out enough time to have dinner with him and try to make it up to him for canceling on him tonight, but not until after the board meeting. As she retrieved the papers from the rug, Alex vowed that Alan would not get the best of her, or make her look like a doddering fool, in front of the board yet again, no matter what she had to do.


	2. Friends and Lovers

_February 14, 1995, 7:10 PM—Company_

Fletcher was still mad when he arrived at Company. He stalked to the bar, and barked at the bartender—apparently a new guy, because Fletcher didn't recognize him—"Whatever bottled domestic beer you have, and keep 'em coming."

He had just taken his first sip when he heard someone complaining, "All that's on this jukebox are sappy love songs! Where are the songs about heartbreak, huh?" He turned from the bar to see a flushed and angry-looking Mindy leaning on the jukebox, drink in hand.

"Mindy?" he called.

She looked over at him. "Fletcher!" she exclaimed. She stood up straight, swaying a bit. She'd obviously been there drinking for a while, he thought. "What are you doing here?"

"Alexandra blew me off," he said.

Mindy joined Fletcher at the bar. "Another vodka and cranberry!" she yelled to the bartender. Then she looked at Fletcher with a bitter smile. "That's a family trait, obviously."

Fletcher felt badly for Mindy. "Nick stood you up too?" he asked sympathetically.

"We had a big, wicked fight about Spaulding, and Alex, and Nick canceling the adoption," Mindy said. "It's one night! Valentine's Day! One evening where he's not obsessed with Spaulding Enterprises, or having to deal with the complication that is Alexandra. Is that too much to ask?" She picked up her fresh vodka and cranberry and took a hearty swallow.

"Apparently it is when you're with a Spaulding," Fletcher said. "Although, wait, that's not entirely true, because Alan took Hope out for dinner and dancing tonight."

"Everybody's out having a good time except us!" Mindy exclaimed. "Dylan's proposing to Bridget tonight," she said, referring to the older of her two younger brothers. "Vanessa and Matt booked a room at the Springfield Inn. Josh has Marah, Shayne, and Peter, but he had lunch today with that new nurse at the hospital, what's her name, Annie Dutton? Even Granddaddy and Bill are at Quint and Nola's, so Granddaddy can play gin rummy with Henry, and Bill and Michelle can do their homework together, while Quint and Nola, and Ed and Maureen, are out."

"Alan and Hope went dancing. Ross and Blake are doing something. Holly left work before 1:30 this afternoon to pick Roger up from the airport," Fletcher added, peeling the label off his bottle of beer.

Mindy snorted. "How does Roger Thorpe get to have a better time on Valentine's Day than we do?" she wanted to know.

"Mindy, don't let that train of thought leave the station, because that way lies madness," Fletcher said.

"Well, at least I won't be crying into my vodka and cranberry alone all night now," Mindy said.

Fletcher touched his beer bottle to her glass. "To good friends," he said.

"The best," Mindy agreed before they each took a drink.

_February 14, 1995, 9:03 PM—Roger and Holly's House_

Roger and Holly returned home from Martinelli's after a feast so sumptuous that neither of them had been able to eat more than one bite of the tiramisu they had ordered for dessert. "All right, we're home," Holly said. "Now, what is this mysterious, ultra romantic, third Valentine's present you kept alluding to throughout dinner and on the drive home? I don't know who's more excited about it, you or me!"

Roger just smiled. "Make yourself comfortable, and I'll be right back," he said.

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Holly joked.

"Later," Roger said before disappearing down the hall. Holly kicked off her shoes and sat down on the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. Roger returned minus his jacket, with his tie loosened and his collar unbuttoned, and holding some kind of paper in his hand. When he sat down at the piano, she realized what was going on.

He was going to play for her. He'd been so busy launching the business with Blake that he hadn't had the chance to play for her in several weeks.

He positioned the sheet music on the piano's music stand, took a deep breath, and began to play. She didn't immediately recognize the song, but it was slow, with a touch of mellow jazz to it. Then he began to sing, completely blowing her away.

_"The very thought of you makes my heart sing_

_Like an April breeze on the wings of spring_

_And you appear in all your splendor_

_My one and only love_

_"The shadows fall and spread their mystic charms_

_In the hush of night, while you're in my arms_

_I feel your lips so warm and tender_

_My one and only love"_

Holly's eyes flooded with tears as she sat there watching and listening to Roger serenade her. She sat there spellbound, her heart and her soul singing with joy and wonder at this extraordinary man, and the way he loved her, and the way she loved him.

_"The touch of your hand is like heaven_

_A heaven that I've never known_

_The blush on your cheek whenever I speak_

_Tells me that you are my own_

_"You fill my eager heart with such desire_

_Every kiss you give sets my soul on fire_

_I give myself in sweet surrender_

_My one and only love"_

He went into an instrumental break then, and unable to stand being across the room from him, she got up and went to sit beside him, watching as his fingers expertly glided over the keys, and melting inside when his voice joined the beautiful, simple melody once more.

_"The blush on your cheek whenever I speak_

_Tells me that you are my own_

_"You fill my eager heart with such desire_

_Every kiss you give sets my soul on fire_

_I give myself in sweet surrender_

_My one and only love_

_My one and only love"_

The last chord slowly faded in the air, and Roger turned to look at Holly sitting beside him, the expression on her face a jumble of awe, surprise, joy, and love of such intensity that it robbed him of whatever it was he had been planning to say; he couldn't remember anymore.

She took his hands in hers then, gently brushing her lips across the back of first his left hand, then his right. They just looked at each other for a long moment, their eyes saying what their voices couldn't find the words to express. At last, Holly whispered, "You captivate me." Then they reached for each other at the same time, meeting in a slow, deep kiss.

_February 14, 1995, 8:42 PM—The Spaulding Mansion_

Alexandra was hopeful that it was Fletcher when Vera interrupted her to tell her she had a phone call, but it wasn't him. It was a bartender at Company, calling to tell her that Fletcher was there and had had a few too many. "I'll be right there," Alexandra promised before hanging up.

She should have figured something like this would happen when Fletcher had stormed out earlier. She sighed as she headed out the door. Could this night get any worse, she wondered.

_February 14, 1995, 9:18 PM—Company_

"You know, I used to be Rick Bauer's girlfriend, a million years ago," Mindy said. She and Fletcher were holding court in a booth at Company, both well and truly bombed. "I should have married him. I really should have. Ed and Maureen… That's like winning the in-law lottery. I wouldn't have to take Alex's garbage if Ed and Maureen were my in-laws."

Fletcher felt compelled to defend his friend. "Hey, you could do a lot worse than Nick," he said.

"And have," Mindy said. "Does the name Will Jeffries ring a bell?"

Fletcher grimaced. "Well, everybody has one person they regret being with years after the relationship has crashed and burned," he said.

"Who's yours?" Mindy wanted to know.

"Claire Ramsey," Fletcher replied. "I just…couldn't be enough for her. I tried, though."

"I don't think I ever really got a single relationship right," Mindy mused. "The closest I came was Kurt. And then he died. We were really gonna put all the immaturity and pettiness behind us and give it a good, grown-up shot, and he got killed before we could."

"The closest I came was Maeve, and she died too," Fletcher reminded her.

"Oh, God, Fletcher, I'm sorry!" Mindy exclaimed.

"It's okay. I can talk about her without falling apart now," Fletcher replied.

"I don't really have one that got away," Mindy said, jumping onto another conversational track. "At least, not until after we'd made a train wreck of the relationship, with the exception of Kurt, but that's only because he died. All the others…"

"You and Rick are still friends," Fletcher pointed out.

"And now he's happy with Eve Guthrie," Mindy said. She made a face. "I know she's not insane anymore, but it kind of bothers me that that's who Rick winds up with."

"They do seem happy together," Fletcher remarked benignly.

"If she ever tries to do to Rick what she did to me, I'll clobber her!" Mindy declared.

"You're a loyal friend, Mindy. That's rare these days, at least for me," Fletcher said.

"What about you? Did you have one that got away? And if you did, is it anybody I would know?" She took another drink.

Fletcher shrugged. "Well, I was told that Chelsea Reardon had a thing for me years ago," he said.

"Really? I only ever remember her having eyes for Johnny Bauer. Who told you she had a thing for you?"

Fletcher gave her a mocking smile. "Alexandra. Of course, Alex was married to Roger at the time."

Mindy decided to ignore the reminder of the second-biggest mistake of a relationship she'd ever had, although she did briefly wonder if she would consider Will a bigger mistake than Roger if she were sober, because at least Will was long since out of her life for good.

"You know, if you'd gotten together with Chelsea, then you would have had Maureen and Ed for in-laws too," Mindy pointed out. "We'd both be better off if we'd married into the Bauer family instead of the Spaulding family."

"Alex and I aren't married, and I doubt we'll be heading for the altar anytime soon," Fletcher said.

"Maybe Nick and I shouldn't have gotten married," Mindy said. "He was so incredible, standing up to Alex the way he did when she barged in on our wedding and tried to stop it, but he just couldn't keep that momentum going. Alex has this hold over him. I can't compete with it." She looked at Fletcher through teary eyes. "I really thought this was it, that I finally found a man I could build a life and a family with, but it's just like all the others. Maybe it's me. Maybe there's just something about me that doesn't make men want to stay with me forever. They don't even stay with me longer than a year or two."

"Any man would be lucky to have a life and a family with you, Mindy," Fletcher said.

Mindy squeezed Fletcher's arm. They looked at each other, both feeling comfortably numb from all the alcohol they had consumed.

They were so far gone by that point that neither of them would ever remember who had leaned in first, but they were in a drunken liplock when Alexandra arrived and found them after the bartender waved his hand toward their booth before resuming wiping down the bar.

**I feel compelled to explain what might be considered out-of-character behavior on Roger's part. When I was watching old clips before starting this story, I came across a scene from 1993 of Roger and Holly reminiscing at Laurel Falls, and Roger actually sang a line or two of Sam Cooke's "You Send Me" to Holly in the process. My first thought was, Michael Zaslow has a great singing voice. My second thought was how incredible the whole scene was. The rest of it, I blame on Sting, because it is his version of "My One and Only Love," which was actually released in 1995, when this story is set, that tangled itself up with my thoughts of Roger and Holly for this story. In my defense, they're still newlyweds in this story, so they're entitled to be sappy. So hopefully, if you consider Roger serenading Holly with both piano playing and singing to be out of character, you'll cut me some slack for it. (Unfortunately, the Laurel Falls scene isn't at YouTube anymore, but maybe someone else has it and will upload it there again eventually.)**

**Secondly, I made a couple more minor adjustments in this alternate universe that differ from the show. First, Dylan Lewis was never blinded in an accident that got blamed on an accidentally-fell-off-the-wagon Ed Bauer, so he never left town, and he and Bridget Reardon are engaged to be married. Also, since Maureen is still alive and married to Ed, Eve Guthrie is dating Rick Bauer, who for my purposes stayed in Springfield after Phillip and Beth and Lizzie left town in 1991. **

**Finally, you'll be meeting Faith Spaulding next chapter. I hope you'll like her as much as I've come to do.**


	3. The Spaulding Valentine's Day Massacre

_**Lots of action in this chapter, although not much of it has to do with Roger and Holly, but what happens in this part is very significant for future events in the story, and you'll be seeing a lot more of Roger and Holly again starting next chapter. Also, meet Faith Spaulding, Alan and Hope's daughter, and Alan-Michael's little sister. I picture Yvonne Strahovski from the prime-time show Chuck as Faith.**_

_February 14, 1995, 9:41 PM—Company_

Alexandra saw red. Literally, a red haze glowed at the edges of her vision as the image of Mindy Lewis kissing Fletcher Reade burned itself into her brain.

She had been through all this with Mindy before, more times than she cared to recall: Phillip, Roger, Nick. The tramp had managed to get Nick to marry her, and now she was sticking her tongue down Fletcher's throat. Nick's best friend. Alex's significant other. It was so typical of her.

"You faithless whore!" Alex shrieked, grabbing Mindy by the hair and yanking her out of the booth. Mindy shrieked in pain at the hold Alex had on her hair, and Alex was seized with a powerful urge to yank her hair out by the roots.

Fletcher was so drunk that he nearly fell over when he stood up. "Now, Alexandra, it's not what it looks like," he began.

"It **looks **like this harlot was shoving her tongue down your throat!" Alex shouted.

"Okay, it **is** what it looks like, but it's not what you think!" Fletcher shouted back, holding his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender in an effort to placate Alex.

"Let go of my hair, Alexandra!" Mindy screamed.

Alex obliged, roughly shoving Mindy away from her and sending her flying into a chair, which fell to the floor with a clatter. "I am beyond sick and tired of you," Alex growled, advancing menacingly on her. "It just never ends with you, does it? I am through talking. I'm going to take care of you once and for all, you shameless tramp!"

"Alex, don't!" Fletcher yelled, stumbling after her.

Mindy, who was as smashed as Fletcher, and therefore far too drunk to aim accurately, struggled to her feet, using the chair she had knocked over to leverage herself upright. She then lifted the chair over her head, intending to bring it down on Alex's head, but she badly misjudged her aim and clobbered Fletcher with the chair instead, sending him crashing to the floor like a ton of bricks with a cry of pain.

"Oh, my god, Fletcher!" Mindy shouted, alarmed.

Alex ignored Fletcher's screams of pain as he writhed on the floor, clutching at his bleeding and broken nose, and stalked after Mindy with a wild look of rage in her eyes. Mindy tried shoving a chair in front of Alex to block her, but Alex continued her advance undaunted, knocking that chair to the floor. "I'm going to kill you," Alex snarled. "It's past time I put you out of my misery!"

"That doesn't even make sense," Mindy said, stumbling backwards, trying to get away. She hurried over to the bar, where the poor bartender stood frozen, uncertain what to do.

Alex kept after Mindy, grabbing Mindy's empty glass from the bar and throwing it at her. Mindy ducked, but Alex had a whole arsenal of glassware behind the bar, and she started chucking glasses at Mindy in rapid-fire succession, sending them shattering against the walls and floor like an out-of-control pitching machine. "Don't just stand there, call the police!" Mindy yelled at the bartender as she bobbed and wove out of the way of Alex's shower of projectiles.

When Alex finally ran out of weapons, Mindy bolted for the kitchen, crunching broken glass beneath her feet. Alex followed after her.

Their voices could be heard from the kitchen. "Have you lost your mind?" Mindy screeched. "Put that down, Alexandra! Put it down!"

"I'm not done with it yet!" Alex shouted.

Mindy screamed and came running back into the dining room, Alex following after her, brandishing a kitchen knife.

That was when the bartender sprang for the phone and called 911.

That was also when Bridget and Dylan returned from their evening, the romantic idyll surrounding Dylan's marriage proposal and Bridget's acceptance of said proposal shattered when they walked in the door to Mindy screaming her head off as she wobbled backwards toward the far wall, Alex advancing on Mindy waving a butcher knife and yelling, "I'm going to kill you!", and Fletcher crumpled on the floor in a moaning heap, his hands covering his face, blood dripping through his fingers.

"What the-?" Bridget said, shocked.

Dylan hurried to his sister, whose back had just hit the far wall. The enraged Alex was still coming at her, the knife raised above her head. Dylan jumped in front of Mindy as Alex brought the knife down, catching Dylan's arm. The knife sliced through Dylan's jacket and shirt and bit through his skin and muscle, making him yell at the sudden, searing pain, and making Mindy scream even more hysterically when she saw the blood welling up from Dylan's arm.

Two uniformed officers of the Springfield Police burst through the door then, weapons drawn. "Freeze!" yelled the blonde female officer in the front. When she saw who was brandishing the butcher knife, her jaw dropped in shock. "Aunt Alex?" Officer Faith Spaulding asked, stunned.

_February 14, 1995, 10:01 PM—Company_

When Faith decided to become a police officer, she did so with the blessing of her entire family (though she knew her parents worried about her physical safety, and she also knew that her mother had had a big hand in convincing her father that Faith had to do what was right for her instead of automatically following her older brothers and sister to business school and Spaulding Enterprises), and with the knowledge that while the Spaulding side of her family was not a group of saints, neither were they apt to flout the law (her father's five years in prison weren't entirely his fault, but he had accepted his punishment and paid his debt to society and was back home with them where he belonged, and all of that Phillip-faking-his-death business years ago didn't count as far as she was concerned), so she figured she wouldn't be arresting any of them for anything, and that had held true for the whole of her career so far.

Until now, that is. She had no idea what had touched off the pandemonium that had obviously led the bartender to call the police in the first place, and with everyone yelling at once, it was impossible for her to sort out the confusion. Since she could see that Fletcher and Dylan were both bleeding, she sent Metzger to call the paramedics while she tried to calm the chaos enough to find out just what had happened here. It took her a few minutes to get Mindy to stop screaming that Alexandra had tried to kill her and stabbed Dylan in the process, and to get Bridget to stop freaking out over the bleeding slash wound on Dylan's arm, and poor Fletcher was forgotten by everyone else as he pulled himself to a sitting position, his head leaning heavily against the base of the bar, both of his eyes already turning black, and his bloody hands covering what had to be one very well broken nose. And then there was her Aunt Alex, standing there seething, practically vibrating with rage, a butcher knife gripped tightly in her fist.

Metzger returned then. "Paramedics are on the way!" he announced.

That finally made everyone shut up, even Mindy, who Faith could tell would flunk a field sobriety test with flying colors if one was administered. Faith cautiously approached her aunt. "Aunt Alex?" she asked. "Do you want to tell me what happened here tonight?"

"She tried to kill me, that's what happened!" Mindy exclaimed.

"Okay, this is bleeding a **lot,**" Bridget said worriedly, pressing the bloody tea towel against Dylan's arm as hard as she could.

The paramedics arrived then, and with them were Faith's superior, Detective Patrick Cutter, and his girlfriend Tangie Hill. "Well, well, well," Cutter said. "Alexandra Spaulding. We meet again."

Alex regarded Cutter coolly. "Detective Cutter," she said. "You have no grounds to arrest me tonight, unlike that business with the bracelet over a year ago."

"No grounds for arrest?" Mindy screeched. "You chased me around with a butcher knife threatening to kill me, and you slashed my brother's arm when he jumped in front of me! If Dylan hadn't gotten in the way, you would have stabbed me! Arrest her, Detective Cutter! Arrest her right now!"

Cutter looked to Faith. "Spaulding?" he asked.

"I'm still trying to get to the bottom of what happened here," Faith admitted. She looked to Dylan and Bridget, who were both sober and not hurt badly enough to preclude answering questions. "Bridget, Dylan, what **did **happen here?"

"All hell had already broken loose when we walked in," Dylan replied as one of the paramedics gently ushered Bridget to Dylan's uninjured side so he could examine Dylan's arm. "Fletcher was on the floor, there was broken glass everywhere, Mindy was up against the wall, and Alex was coming at her with a butcher knife. I just reacted when I jumped in between Mindy and Alex."

Fletcher groaned from his place against the bottom of the bar. His voice was muffled because his hands were still covering the lower half of his face. "It was all a misunderstanding," he said. "And I'm sure my nose is broken, so could I get a little help here, please?" The other paramedic hurried over to tend to Fletcher as his partner continued ministering to Dylan.

"A misunderstanding?" Bridget demanded, having been assured that Dylan would be fine once he had gotten a few stitches. "You busted up my restaurant over a misunderstanding?"

"Technically it was Alex doing the busting up," Mindy tattled to Bridget.

"I'm not the one who walloped Fletcher with a chair!" Alex retorted.

"I was aiming for you!" Mindy reminded her. "At least I didn't come after him with a deadly weapon!"

Alex started to raise the knife again, but Faith grabbed hold of her forearm before she could. The first paramedic had finished stitching up Dylan's arm, so Faith motioned him over. "Aunt Alex, let's let this paramedic take a look at you," she said calmly.

"I'm fine, Faith," Alex said shortly.

"Humor me," Faith replied. "Besides, you know Dad would have my head if anything happened to you on my watch."

Alex smiled. "Please. Your father thinks the sun rises and sets on you. He's always doted on you and your brothers." Alan had turned out to be a good father, despite having had Brandon Spaulding for an example. Unlike Alex, he had been involved in all of his children's lives—well, except Amanda's—from the very beginning, and both Faith and Alan-Michael worshipped Hope and adored Alan. Even Alan's years in prison hadn't broken their bonds. Alex hadn't been nearly as lucky with Lujack or with Nick.

"He loves you too," Faith reminded Alex. She knew all about the tension between her father and her aunt—and her brother and her cousin Nick, too, and it had not escaped her notice that Nick was conspicuously absent from this scene—since Alan had resumed his duties at Spaulding Enterprises after his homecoming, given his determination to reclaim control of the company. Though Faith hadn't gone the corporate route herself, she'd been raised in the middle of it, and had spent a few teenage summers working in the mailroom at Spaulding Enterprises, and she knew that as much as her father and aunt loved and depended on each other, the one thing they would never graciously share would be control of the company her grandfather Brandon had built. Her Aunt Alex had control of the company, and her father wanted control of the company. Alan-Michael had sided up with their father, and Nick was getting more and more drawn into the corporate world and was, of course, on Alexandra's side. And unlike Alan and Hope, Alexandra and Fletcher didn't have a strong relationship that provided Alex with comfort and a place to relax and forget the rest of the world from time to time. Alex's relationship with Nick also had its tenuous moments, given that her hatred of Mindy far predated her discovery that Nick even existed.

Faith coaxed Alex into a chair and a paramedic took her pulse and blood pressure. "Pulse is elevated, and her blood pressure is practically off the charts," he reported. "We should really take her in to Cedars."

"You should really take her to jail!" Mindy exclaimed.

"Mindy, SHUT UP!" Alex roared. "Someone get me a phone! I'm calling Ross Marler right now."

Faith looked to Cutter, as Metzger hovered uncertainly nearby. "You're not arrested, Ms. Spaulding," Cutter informed Alex.

"I still want Ross," Alex insisted. Then she looked to Faith and the paramedics. "And if you insist on dragging me to Cedars, the only doctor I will see is Ed Bauer."

The first paramedic looked from Alex to Faith. "Dr. Bauer's not on call tonight," he said.

"Aunt Alex, if I get Uncle Ed, will you agree to go to Cedars?" Faith asked.

"Yes," Alex replied.

"Cutter, can we sort this all out at Cedars?" Faith asked her boss.

"As long as we sort it all out before anyone leaves Cedars," Cutter said. He looked to Tangie then, who had remained quietly in the background, observing the proceedings. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I wasn't expecting this."

"We got through dinner, that's what counts," Tangie told him. "I understand."

Drunk as she was, Mindy insisted on accompanying Dylan and Bridget to the hospital. Tangie, taking pity on Fletcher, told him she'd drive him to Cedars in his car. After they had all left, along with the paramedics, Faith told Metzger to give her a minute before they headed for Cedars themselves with her aunt, then picked up the phone behind the bar, biting back a sigh as she punched in a familiar number.

_February 14, 1995, 10:28 PM—Ed and Maureen's House _

Michelle was in bed asleep, Rick was at Eve's, and Ed and Maureen were in the throes of passion when the phone rang. They heard it, but didn't stop what they were doing, since they knew where the kids were and Ed wasn't on call that night and had no critical patients. But they couldn't ignore the message their great-niece left.

"Uncle Ed, it's Faith. I am **really** sorry to bother you at home like this, especially this late on Valentine's Day, but I'm headed to Cedars right now with Aunt Alex. She needs to see a doctor, and she insists that she'll only see you, so could you please meet us there? I'll try to explain when you get there…if I've gotten an explanation by then myself."

Maureen rolled off of Ed and flopped down beside him with a frustrated groan as he muttered a curse. She exhaled a breath through her nose as Ed turned his head to look at her. "Great timing, huh?" Ed said sarcastically.

"It's been so long since that happened, I forgot how it feels when it does," Maureen admitted.

"Me too," Ed replied.

Maureen sat up, pushing her hair off her forehead. "Faith sounded a bit shaken. I'm going with you, to be there for her," she said. She reached for her robe, then looked over her shoulder at Ed and asked, "Are you coming?"

Ed couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing. Maureen couldn't help laughing too. "That was a poor choice of words," she admitted when their laughter had died down.

"Is the mood totally killed, or do you think it's possible we could continue this later?" Ed asked as he got out of bed.

"I'm willing to try to revive the mood later on if you are, Doctor," Maureen said. They kissed before getting dressed, and before knocking on the garage apartment door to tell Rick and Eve that they were headed to Cedars so that Rick and Eve could go over to the house and be there just in case for Michelle.

_February 14, 1995, 11:03 PM—The Paradise Ballroom_

The Valentine's crowd had thinned out considerably, but Alan and Hope had long ago ceased to notice anyone but each other. "It's after eleven," Hope said softly in Alan's ear as they danced, catching sight of the large clock hanging above the bandstand.

"Just one more dance," Alan replied quietly.

The vocalist with the big band said, "And now, a special request," before the band launched into "That's All."

Hope pulled back to look into Alan's beaming face. She beamed back at him, rested her cheek against his, and followed his lead across the dance floor.

Their reverie was broken when they heard Alan being paged: "Telephone call for Alan Spaulding. There's a telephone call for Alan Spaulding."

Alan and Hope were both puzzled. "Who would be calling me here?" he asked. "Does anyone even know we're here?"

Hope put her arm through his as they headed for the phone. "I had lunch with Faith and Alan-Michael today and told them what we were doing tonight. But they wouldn't call unless…" She trailed off, looking alarmed.

Alan fought his growing sense of panic as he grabbed the phone from the coat check girl who offered it to him. "Hello?"

"Dad, it's me," Faith said on the other end of the line. "I'm really sorry to have to do this, but I'm on my way to Cedars with Aunt Alex. There was an…incident at Company tonight, I'm still trying to get to the bottom of it, but I really need you and Mom to meet us there, okay?"

"What's wrong with Alexandra?" Alan asked anxiously.

"Uncle Ed is meeting us there, I already called him. Her blood pressure's a little high. It's just a precaution. I really have to go, Dad, I'll tell you more at Cedars." Then Faith hung up.

"What about Alexandra?" Hope asked worriedly.

"Faith's taking her to Cedars, and Ed's meeting them there. Alex's blood pressure is too high," Alan said. He handed the coat check girl their stubs, and she quickly returned with their coats. Once they had their coats, they hurried to Cedars.

_February 14, 1995, 11:11 PM—Cedars Hospital_

Blake was not happy. She had been very happy, until Faith Spaulding interrupted the start of her and Ross's second round of lovemaking because Alexandra was at Cedars, demanding to see Ross immediately. According to Ross, Faith was rushed and vague on the phone, apologizing for calling so late, alluding to an incident at Company, and asking Ross to come to Cedars right away for Alex, and Blake refused to let him go alone.

When they arrived at Cedars, Blake was surprised to see Maureen, Hope, Tangie, and Mindy in the waiting room. Mindy was draped over a chair, halfway to being passed out from the look of things, and the others were talking quietly among themselves. Maureen was the first to spot Blake and Ross, and she waved them over.

"Where's Alexandra?" Ross asked.

"She's in that exam room with Alan and Uncle Ed," Hope told him, gesturing to a nearby closed door. "I'm sure you can go on in."

After Ross had gone in to the exam room, Blake regarded her friends. "Okay, except for you, Hope, why are we all down here so late on Valentine's night for Alexandra?"

"I came here mostly for Faith, but I haven't seen her since I got here," Maureen replied.

"We were about to go back to Patrick's place from dinner when he got pulled into this, and Fletcher needed a ride down here anyway," Tangie answered.

"Fletcher? What happened?" Blake asked.

"Apparently, Mindy walloped him with a chair and broke his nose," Tangie said.

Blake was shocked. "I thought they were friends?"

"I guess they got a little more friendly than they should have after their Valentine's Day plans with Nick and Alexandra nosedived and they spent the evening getting hammered together at Company instead," Tangie said.

Faith joined them then. "I called Nick, he's on his way to pick up Mindy," she said. "Any word on Aunt Alex?"

"Your father, Uncle Ed, and Ross are all in with her right now," Hope replied.

"I am really sorry all of you ended up down here tonight," Faith said.

"Did you get everything sorted out?" Maureen asked.

"Yeah, I think I finally did," Faith said with a sigh. "Dylan's agreed not to press charges. Bridget will be satisfied with remuneration for the damages. And Mindy's passed out, thank God, so I'm leaving it to Nick to talk her out of insisting on Aunt Alex's head on a platter."

"What in the world happened tonight?" Blake asked.

"Aunt Alex caught Fletcher and Mindy in a drunken liplock at Company and went after Mindy," Faith replied. "Mindy was so bombed that when she tried to hit Alex with a chair, she missed, and got Fletcher instead. The poor guy's nose is broken and his eyes look like a raccoon's. They're still patching him up. Company got kind of busted up in the process, but the most alarming thing is that Aunt Alex went after Mindy with a butcher knife and said she was going to kill her. Dylan and Bridget walked into the middle of it when they got home from their Valentine's Day date, and when Dylan jumped in front of Mindy to protect her, Aunt Alex sliced his arm with the knife, so he needed stitches. He and Bridget just left."

Blake was stunned. Before she could say anything else, Ed, Alan, and Ross emerged from the exam room where Alexandra was. "How's Aunt Alex?" Faith asked.

"Her blood pressure is off the charts, and her pulse is still elevated," Ed replied. "She's in the danger zone for a stroke, so I've given her a sedative and she's sleeping. I want her here overnight for observation." Alan looked guilty, knowing that all of the tension between himself and Alexandra these past months had contributed to driving his sister to this point.

"Nobody's being arrested," Faith informed the men. "Dylan has agreed not to press charges, and Bridget just wants compensation for the damages."

"I'll make full restitution for the damages," Alan said. He frowned at Mindy across the room.

Faith followed her father's gaze. "Nick is on his way to get her," she said. "He won't let her press charges against Aunt Alex."

Hope laid a hand on Alan's arm. "I'll talk to Mindy myself, if need be. Alexandra won't go to jail for this, Alan."

Nick arrived then, and Faith excused herself to go and talk to him. The further she got into her explanation, the more his face darkened. Nick looked toward Ed, and Faith motioned Ed over to talk to Nick. Nick nodded a couple of times, then sighed and tried to get Mindy on her feet. She was dead to the world, so he had to carry her out of Cedars.

Ross then said to Blake, "They don't need me here anymore. You ready to go home?"

"Yeah," she said.

Detective Cutter and Fletcher returned then, Fletcher with his nose splinted and taped. Tangie would drive Fletcher home, and Cutter would follow them in his car so he could then take Tangie home. Blake and Ross said their good nights to the others, then headed outside.

"I can't believe Alex did that," Blake said.

"She's been under too much pressure since Alan got out of prison," Ross said. "She just finally snapped. Ed is worried about her blood pressure, though. He wants her to see a cardiologist tomorrow. She may need blood pressure medication."

Once they were in the car, Blake said, "Boy, am I glad my father isn't mixed up with the Spauldings anymore!"

"You and me both," Ross agreed as he pulled out of the parking lot at Cedars. "As bad as this was tonight, it would be much worse if Roger was somehow involved."

_February 14, 1995, 11:42 PM—Roger and Holly's House_

After another round of lovemaking, followed by feeding each other the tiramisu they hadn't been able to eat at dinner, sleep finally began to gradually steal over Roger and Holly. Lying on their sides, her back to his front, his arms wrapped around her, they were slowly drifting off, lulled to sleep by the warmth and security of their shared embrace and the even rhythm of one another's breathing. Holly ran her hand down the arm Roger had draped across her torso, finding his hand in the dark and lacing her fingers through his. He lightly squeezed her hand, dropped a kiss on her shoulder, and whispered, "Good night" before surrendering to sleep.

"Good night, my one and only love," Holly whispered back before sleep claimed her too.


	4. The Eventful Aftermath

_**Heartfelt thanks to my collaborator Mendys for creating Faith Spaulding, and for keeping me on the right path regarding Alan and Hope and their relationship. As promised, there's a lot of Roger and Holly in this part as well.**_

_February 15, 1995, 7:24 AM—Springfield Journal_

Tangie was one of the earliest arrivals at the _Journal _offices the morning after Valentine's Day. She had just taken a drink of coffee when she unfolded a copy of that day's _Journal. _When the four-column headline registered with her, she spit her coffee out. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed in horror.

There it was, in black and white: **SPAULDING CEO'S ST. VALENTINE'S DAY MASSACRE **

Below that it read **Alexandra Spaulding wields knife, attacks daughter-in-law at local eatery**

Tangie was broken out of her shock when Holly arrived, still looking like she was ten feet off the ground. "Good morning, Tangie!" Holly exclaimed brightly. "How was your Valentine's Day?"

"Not nearly as good as yours, apparently," Tangie said, trying to smile back at Holly.

But Tangie's smile was too uneasy. Holly knew something was wrong. "Why do you have that look on your face?" Holly asked.

Tangie sighed. "Because I have to be the one to ruin your good mood and completely trash your day," she said. Wordlessly she held out the newspaper to Holly.

When Holly saw the headline, she blanched. "Did this actually happen?" she asked.

"Nowitzki got some of the details wrong," Tangie admitted. "I was there, in the aftermath. I don't know who he talked to, but Alexandra didn't actually stab anyone. She sliced Dylan Lewis's arm with a knife. And Alexandra wasn't the one who broke Fletcher's nose. That was Mindy."

"Is Nowitzki in yet?" Holly asked.

"I haven't seen him," Tangie replied.

They heard Fletcher before they saw him. **"HOLLY!"** he bellowed on a groan.

"Scour the building, and check the parking lot," Holly directed Tangie. "If Nowitzki is anywhere on the premises, you bring him to me the second you find him."

"Right," Tangie agreed, hurrying off.

Tangie narrowly avoided colliding with Fletcher as he came charging into the bullpen, waving a copy of the day's _Journal. _Holly bit back a gasp at the sight of him. His nose was taped and splinted, both his eyes were black, and she could tell by the look on his face that it was taking supreme effort for him to be walking around and talking between the pain of his broken nose and the pain of his hangover. "I hadn't planned on coming in today, until I saw this. Then I **had** to drag myself down here to find out what the hell this is doing on the front page?" Fletcher said angrily.

"I just found out about it myself," Holly replied. "I've got Tangie looking for Nowitzki, and believe me, I'll deal with him the second he gets here!"

"You didn't sign off on this before the paper went to press?" Fletcher asked incredulously.

"Of course I didn't! I left a few minutes after 1 yesterday afternoon, remember?" Holly said.

"You never checked back in at all last night?" Fletcher asked angrily

"No, I didn't, because my editor told me he had charge of things when I left!" Holly reminded him.

"You actually have the brass to stand there and blame **me **for this?" Fletcher exclaimed. "Boy, Roger's really rubbing off on you."

"Don't start that with me," Holly warned in a dangerously low tone.

"The last thing I want right now is to hear you sing Roger's praises," Fletcher retorted. He clutched at his head for a moment before continuing. "This was careless and irresponsible, Holly! As the publisher of this newspaper, you are ultimately responsible for every bit of editorial content. This so-called story—because a first-year journalism student wouldn't have made the mistakes here that Nowitzki did—does **not **belong on the front page. It should have been fact-checked, which it was not. And the whole tone, not to mention this godawful headline, are strictly scandal sheet material, and the _Journal _is better than that!"

"Yes, I know, I've lost count of the number of times we've had that discussion!" Holly exclaimed. She raked her hands through her hair. "I apologize, Fletcher. _Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa."_

"Yeah, a lot of good that does now, with the paper already out there!" Fletcher replied.

"Print a retraction! Write it yourself if you want to!" Holly declared. "At this point, it's all about damage control, because like you said, it's already out there. I can't change it now."

"No, you should have changed it last night!" Fletcher yelled, groaning again when the yell made his head hurt worse for a minute.

"Yes, I should have. But I didn't. Are you planning to stand there all day and read me the riot act for messing up on this?" Holly wanted to know.

"No," Fletcher grumbled. "Someone has to do damage control, and you obviously can't be trusted to do it, so I'll handle it. Thanks **so** much for the added misery, Madame Publisher." He winced then, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. "There are gonna be some changes around here," he warned before turning to make his way to his desk.

Holly ignored the jibe about not being trustworthy enough to do damage control and resisted the urge to tell Fletcher that things **would **be changing at the _Journal _very soon because she was leaving to go back to WSPR. She figured that would just give him more ammunition, and he would accuse her of no longer caring about the paper at all.

She could admit it to herself: last night, she **hadn't** cared about the paper at all. The only thing she had cared about last night was being with her husband. She and Roger had been apart for ten ceaselessly long days, and it was Valentine's Day on top of that. No one could have guessed that Alexandra would go off half-cocked, trashing Company, brandishing a knife, and racking up property damage and causing bodily injury to others in the process.

Holly had just sat down at her desk when Tangie came rushing into her office. "Nowitzki just arrived," she said breathlessly. "I caught him in the parking lot and told him you want to see him right away, and he's on his way up."

"Thank you," Holly said. She waited for Nowitzki, marshaling her thoughts on what she wanted to say to him, and when he appeared in her office doorway, she said, "Come in, close the door, and sit down. We have to talk, Brad."

_February 15, 1995, 7:40 AM—Faith Spaulding's Apartment _

Faith fumbled for the insistently ringing cordless phone that woke her from a sound sleep when it became obvious that the caller wasn't going to hang up. Groaning, she lifted the receiver to her ear. "H'lo?" she mumbled.

"I see I missed some big doings last night," came her brother's voice over the line.

"Alan-Michael? What are you talking about?" Faith asked groggily.

"You obviously haven't seen the front page of the _Journal _this morning," Alan-Michael said.

That snapped Faith awake. "Oh, god," she said, throwing back the covers, springing out of bed, and hurrying to her front door. She grabbed the paper from her welcome mat, ripped off the rubber band, and there it was. "Son of a—" she said. "I cannot **believe** Holly did this!"

"You think maybe Roger's behind it?" Alan-Michael asked.

"He and Aunt Alex have hated each other for years," Faith reminded her brother.

"With good reason on Aunt Alex's part," Alan-Michael shot back.

"Absolutely," Faith agreed. "But this… I don't have my contacts in, did they even interview anybody from the department for the article?"

"'Rookie officer Bruno Metzger,'" Alan-Michael quoted from the article.

"That little toad," Faith gritted out through clenched teeth. "I knew he'd do anything to get his name in the paper, but he's going to learn yesterday that doing it at the expense of his training officer's family is a **huge** mistake."

"The tabloids are all over this too, of course," Alan-Michael went on.

"Of course," Faith said disgustedly.

"Is Aunt Alex really in the hospital?" Alan-Michael asked, concerned.

"Uncle Ed sedated her and kept her overnight for observation," Faith told him. "He was afraid she'd stroke out if he let her go home like that." She paused. "It was bad, Alan-Michael. I've never seen her like that before."

"I'm heading over to the mansion to see Mom and Dad," Alan-Michael said. "I'm sure Dad will want to have a family meeting about how best to do damage control on this."

"Tell them I'll be there in a little while," Faith said, heading back to her bedroom to get dressed. "I have a stop to make on the way."

_February 15, 1995, 8:13 AM—Springfield Journal, Holly Lindsey-Thorpe's Office _

Holly had severely reprimanded Nowitzki for his take on what had happened between Alexandra, Mindy, Fletcher, and Dylan the night before, and suspended him without pay for two weeks.

An outraged Faith Spaulding blew into Holly's office shortly after she had dismissed Nowitzki, slamming the door behind her hard enough to rattle the glass, and throwing a copy of the _Journal_'s front section on her desk. "You know," Faith began without preamble, "Roger is the one I would expect to be enjoying the misfortunes of others and reveling in them, and gloating after causing most of those misfortunes. That's his M.O., and has been for decades. But it was never yours, at least not until now. And to make matters worse, you go and do it on the front page of the one legitimate newspaper in this town." She flicked a hand at the paper on Holly's desk. "I was there, and I can rattle off at least five amateur mistakes in this so-called journalistic article. You'd better hope my family doesn't decide that part of the damage control we're doing involves suing you for all the lies you've allowed to go to print here. Hell, the tabloids are reporting a more factual version than whoever wrote this garbage!" She looked at Holly disgustedly. "You need to figure out how to be married to Roger Thorpe and not have him change you for the worse."

"The reporter who wrote the story has been suspended without pay for two weeks, and Fletcher is writing a retraction as we speak," Holly said. "And I hate to disappoint you, but it wasn't revenge against the Spauldings that landed this story on the front page in the trashiest manner possible. It was simple carelessness. I wasn't here to stop it from going to press, and obviously, neither was Fletcher. I didn't even know about it until I walked in here this morning. That is on me, and I apologize for it. But Roger had nothing to do with it, at least not in the way you're thinking. I admit, he was the reason I wasn't here last night, but that's as far as his involvement goes."

Faith looked at her skeptically. "I'm not sure I believe that," she said.

"That's your choice," Holly replied evenly.

"Consider this a friendly warning on behalf of my entire family," Faith went on. "Watch it. You used to be above reproach, at least professionally."

"And because Roger isn't above reproach at all in the eyes of the good citizens of Springfield, I'm automatically a horrible person because I'm married to him now," Holly said angrily. "I made a mistake, Faith. Everyone does from time to time. Even you." Before Faith could reply, someone knocked on Holly's office door. "Come in," she called.

A haggard-looking Nick Spaulding entered the office then. "Faith," he greeted his younger cousin, surprised to see her there.

"I was just leaving," Faith said. "How's Aunt Alex this morning?"

"I haven't been by to see her yet, but I called the hospital. Lillian said she's still sleeping, and we have a conference with Ed and the head of cardiology at 10," Nick told her.

"I'll let my parents and Alan-Michael know. I'm on my way to see them now," Faith told him. She glared at Holly once more and said, "You would do well to remember what I said, Holly," before turning and walking out.

After Faith left, closing the door behind her, Holly repressed a sigh and said, "Look, Nick, I've already heard it from Fletcher and Faith both, and I apologize, but—"

Nick cut her off. "I don't want to talk about the article," he said. "I don't know why everyone was so surprised to see it. I certainly wasn't.

"I'm here to talk to you about something else. I'm sure you know by now that Gilly is headed to the network in New York, and I would have to be stupid not to know that you would be Roger's first choice to replace her at WSPR."

Holly wasn't too surprised that Nick had anticipated Roger offering her Gilly's job, but she was really flabbergasted by what he had to say next.

"I have too much on my plate between WSPR, here, Spaulding Enterprises, Alexandra, and Melinda," he continued. "Something's got to give. I know that Roger is off doing his own thing now, but I'd like to keep temptation out of his path, especially after last night. So I have a business proposition for you: I will sell you the Spaulding half of WSPR if you'll sell me your share of the _Journal_. That way, you and Roger will own the station, and I'll own over half of the paper."

Holly blinked. "I only own 30% of the _Journal._ You own 50% of WSPR," she said.

"Yeah, I can count," Nick said irritably. "Your 30% added to what I already own will give me controlling interest in the _Journal._ You'll own half of WSPR, and Roger will own the other half, and you're the only person in the world who will have no problem at all with Roger Thorpe being your co-owner. And this way, the last professional connection between the Spauldings and the Thorpes will be severed. We don't see eye to eye on much of anything, Holly, but I think you'll agree with me that this is a wise course of action."

Holly couldn't believe what Nick was offering. Before she saw that blasted headline of Nowitzki's, she had been planning to tell Nick and Fletcher today that she was going back to WSPR, and tell them she wanted to sell her share of the _Journal _back to them. Now here Nick was, offering to sell her his half of WSPR in exchange for her share of the _Journal_!

"I do agree with you," Holly said. "And yes, although I haven't informed Fletcher or anyone else yet, I am going to be leaving here to be the station manager at WSPR in the very near future. I accept your offer, Nick."

"Good," Nick said. "I'll have my lawyer handle the paperwork."

"I'll do the same," she said.

"I'll have something for you by Friday," Nick said, and then he left.

Holly leaned back in her chair with a smile. As she picked up the phone and reached for her Rolodex, she debated whether to call Roger and tell him right away, but she decided to wait and tell him tonight, because she wanted to see the look on his face when she told him that she was going to be the other owner of WSPR. She punched in Leo Flynn's number instead, and when she was put through to him, she said, "Leo? Holly Lindsey-Thorpe. I need your legal expertise on a very important business matter…"

_February 15, 1995, 9:51 AM—Cedars Hospital_

Nick was the last Spaulding to make it to the hospital that morning, but before he could get into Alexandra's room, Lillian stopped him. "She's talking to the chief of psychiatry right now," Lillian told him. "Ed insisted. Alan and the others are waiting in there." She directed him to a private family waiting room.

When Nick entered, everyone turned to look at him, and Faith, who had been telling her parents and brother about her warning to Holly, stopped talking. Hope spoke first. "How is Mindy?" she asked.

"Sleeping it off," Nick replied succinctly. Melinda had awakened to get sick at 3 in the morning, after which they'd had an even bigger fight than the one that had led her to Company to get drunk in the first place. After reaching a stalemate in that fight, and as a concession to Melinda's raging hangover, she had informed him then that if she survived this bleeping hangover, she would be moving back home with Vanessa and Josh and the kids by the weekend at the absolute latest. Nick wasn't too bothered by that because things between them had been falling apart for a long time, and he had no clue how to make any of it better, so spending some time apart seemed to him like the right thing to do, especially with Alexandra needing him so much right now. He still hadn't spoken to Fletcher about the events of the night before, though he'd seen him at the paper, trying to work with his broken nose and a monster hangover. He'd talk to Fletcher later, though. Right now, Alexandra was his first priority.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Roger Thorpe had something to do with that article in the _Journal_," Alan said then. "I used to think better of Holly, but this is proof of the old adage about being known by the company one keeps."

"Roger and Aunt Alex have despised each other for years, and he would be all over this like a shark smelling fresh blood," Alan-Michael agreed. "We're just lucky he's so busy with his new consulting firm that he's not trumpeting it all over WSPR."

"Holly claimed it was carelessness on her part, but I don't know, Dad, I think that you and Alan-Michael may be right," Faith added.

"Do you all honestly believe that Holly would let that kind of error-filled story, with such a tawdry headline, onto the front page of the _Journal _just on Roger's say-so?" Hope asked, trying to play devil's advocate.

"Yes," chorused Alan, Faith, and Alan-Michael.

"No," Nick said. They all looked at him in surprise. "Look, I'm not defending Holly or Roger. I would never do that. But I wasn't surprised at the tone of the story in the _Journal, _considering it was that bottom feeder Nowitzki who wrote it. And I was at work yesterday, preoccupied though I was, and Holly left before 2:00 yesterday afternoon and didn't come back or even call in for the rest of the night, at least by the time I left at 7 to go to Spaulding Enterprises. She screwed up. And it was obviously because of Roger, because the reason she left so early was to pick him up at the airport, and then…" He trailed off, making a disgusted face at the thought of Holly and Roger having a peaceful, happy Valentine's Day when the entire Spaulding clan, plus assorted friends, ended the night at Cedars with the police. "But she didn't sign off on this story, and she didn't choose to put it in the paper."

"Be that as it may, the responsibility is still ultimately hers as publisher of the Springfield _Journal_," Alan said disapprovingly.

Nick sighed. "Fletcher is down at the paper right now—"

"In his condition?" Hope asked, shocked. Fletcher had slept in one of the guest rooms at the mansion the night before, and having seen him when Tangie and Detective Cutter had brought him home, Hope knew what rough shape he was in.

"He and I need to talk," Nick said, "but I needed to be here. If it turns out he hasn't written some kind of retraction or something about that story, I'll take care of it myself later today. We obviously can't trust Holly to do the right thing here."

"I really thought Roger would stop being a thorn in our family's side now that he finally convinced Holly to marry him," Alan-Michael said. "Instead, now we have to deal with both of them."

"Yeah, well, not for long," Nick replied.

"What does that mean?" Alan asked his nephew.

"I offered to sell Holly my half of WSPR a little while ago in exchange for her share in the _Journal_, and she accepted," Nick informed the others. "I've already got our lawyers starting on the paperwork."

Everyone looked surprised. "Does Aunt Alex know you're doing this?" Alan-Michael asked.

"Not yet," Nick replied. "But she gave the station to me, to do with as I see fit. I can't keep juggling WSPR, the _Journal_, and Spaulding, especially now. The _Journal _is what I want. Alexandra needs me at Spaulding. So it's time to cut WSPR loose. This will get Holly out of the paper and give me a bigger say in how things are run there, and sever the last professional relationship the Spauldings have with Roger Thorpe."

"Alexandra isn't going to be happy that you did this without consulting her first," Alan said.

"I did what I thought was right, what I believe is necessary," Nick said in a stony voice. "After last night, I think WSPR and its ownership should be the least of Alexandra's worries, don't you, Alan?"

Ed Bauer came in then, accompanied by a fiftyish man wearing a lab coat and Cedars ID badge. "Dr. Julian Braddock, Chief of Psychiatry," Ed introduced him, "this is Ms. Spaulding's family: her son Nick, her brother Alan, sister-in-law Hope, niece Faith, and nephew Alan-Michael."

After Dr. Braddock shook hands with everyone, he said, "I'm concerned about Ms. Spaulding's emotional state. She insists that she was coming from a place of anger last night regarding her behavior toward…" He consulted his notes. "Mindy? But I sense deeper issues at work. However, she is resisting counseling."

"Dr. Braddock," Alan said, "I believe that my sister knows her own mind. Last night was a…momentary aberration. She and Mindy have a long, unpleasant history, and while I agree that Alexandra's behavior last night was going too far, she was provoked, not only by her history with Mindy, but also by the amount of pressure she has been under these past several months."

"I agree with Alan," Nick added. "This outburst has been coming for a long time. Now it's happened, and I'm confident that Alexandra won't behave in this manner ever again." Nick looked to Ed. "You can't force her into therapy, can you?" he asked.

"Me? No. You and Alan, as her next of kin, yes," Ed said.

Alan and Nick exchanged a look. "I think we agree that's not necessary, Ed," Alan said.

"Well, you and Ms. Spaulding know where to find me if any of you change your minds," Dr. Braddock said.

Ed took the Spauldings in to see Alexandra then. The cardiologist, Dr. Evan Kendrick, agreed with Ed's initial diagnosis of Alex being near a stroke the night before, and since Alex's blood pressure was still too high, he insisted on starting her on blood pressure medication right away, and he told her she would have to reduce the amount of stress in her life (which caused the rest of her family to exchange significant, and in Alan's case guilty, looks all around) and increase the healthiness of her diet. After that, Ed agreed to discharge Alex and send her home. "But no work for the rest of the week," Ed said sternly.

"I will be a model of self-restraint," Alex promised him.

She meant that when she said it…but she broke her word not even three hours later.

_February 15, 1995, 10:17 AM—Thorpe and Marler Consulting_

Roger was at his desk at his office, reading the various newspaper and tabloid accounts of what was universally known in the print media as "The Spaulding St. Valentine's Day Massacre." Alexandra had finally snapped the night before, chasing Mindy around Company with a butcher knife and threatening to kill her after catching Mindy with her tongue down the throat of Alex's current paramour Fletcher Reade, and she had slashed open Mindy's brother Dylan's arm in the process.

The baser side of Roger found the whole thing hilarious. Mindy was the only person Alex hated at least as much as she hated him. Of course, she'd known Mindy a lot longer, and Mindy did have the nasty habit of getting herself sexually involved with the men in Alex's life, including him during the horrible time he had held the title of Alex's husband. Alex's reaction to that had been more about her ego than anything else, but it had made the irony of Mindy falling for Nick after her and Roger's affair ended a brilliant cosmic farce, as far as Roger was concerned.

The only thing that bothered him was the headline in the _Journal_. He knew full well that work had been the furthest thing from Holly's mind last night, but he hated to think what kind of hell she was catching at work today because for one night—the first night they'd been in the same room in ten nights, which happened to be Valentine's Day to boot—she hadn't been there to okay every single word that went into the morning edition.

He was silently fretting about what Holly was going through at her office when Blake walked in, saw him with the stack of newspapers, and said, "I see you've heard about last night."

"I'm sorry I missed it. I would have liked to have seen it for myself, preferably with a big bowl of popcorn," Roger replied, setting the newspapers aside.

"Oh, really?" Blake asked dryly. "Think about what you were doing last night while Alex was chasing Mindy around with a butcher knife. Would you **really **rather have been watching that instead of doing whatever it was you were doing last night with Mom?" When his face softened as he recalled the night before with Holly, Blake said, "I thought not. Besides, you should be grateful that Alex's rampage wasn't aimed at you."

"Oh, I am," Roger replied. "And I can't say I'm all that surprised that it was aimed at Mindy. Alex has known and hated her even longer than she's known and hated me."

"Well, I'm glad you and Mom had an uninterrupted good time last night. Somebody certainly deserved to," Blake continued.

"'Uninterrupted good time?' What does that mean?" Roger asked.

"It means Ross and I were having a great night…until Faith Spaulding called because Alex insisted she had to see Ross right away. I insisted on going with him because I wasn't happy about my husband leaving me alone at 11:00 on Valentine's night. Ross and I weren't the only ones whose evening got interrupted, though. The gang was all there at Cedars: Maureen and Ed, Tangie and Cutter, Bridget and Dylan, me and Ross." Blake picked up the _Journal_ from Roger's desk and looked at the headline again. "There's no way Mom okayed this," she said.

"Of course she didn't," Roger replied. "That's the only thing that bothers me about this. I'm sure she's getting all kinds of grief for it."

"Mom can handle it," Blake said.

"She shouldn't have to," Roger said. "If it were anybody else, they would get a pass for skipping out on work to spend Valentine's Day with the spouse they hadn't seen in ten days. The entire town's opinion of your mother has taken a nosedive since they found out we got married."

"Ross's opinion hasn't. Maureen's opinion hasn't, and neither has Michelle's," Blake pointed out. "And Mom doesn't care what the rest of the town thinks anyway."

"I know she doesn't, but I don't think she should have to put up with that kind of condescension," Roger said. He reached for the phone. "I think I'll see just how bad it is for her today."

"I'll be in my office, working on the McNamara project," Blake said as she turned to leave to give him privacy.

Holly answered on the second ring. "Springfield _Journal_, Holly Lindsey-Thorpe."

"How bad is it?" he asked.

She knew exactly what he meant. "Well," she began, "Tangie regretted having to ruin my good mood and my day, but she broke it to me as gently as she could. I've suspended Nowitzki for two weeks without pay, following a stern lecture on journalistic ethics and the legitimate press versus the tabloid press, which Fletcher would have delivered a lot better, but he wasn't really in any shape to do it, having used up his biggest reserve of energy to stay upright long enough to reprimand me for falling down on the job, and then hunkering down at his desk to attempt to write a retraction."

"Fletcher came to work in the condition he must have been in after last night just to yell at you?" Roger exclaimed. "If his nose wasn't already broken, I'd come down there and break it myself!"

"I'm not sorry I wasn't here last night," Holly said firmly. "I was exactly where I wanted to be."

"I know you were," Roger said. He sighed. "I just hate that you're getting grief for it."

"I'd do it again," Holly said assuredly. "But as the publisher, I am accountable for this story running."

"Who else besides Fletcher is holding you accountable? You have to have heard from at least one Spaulding by now," Roger said.

"Faith was the Spaulding family representative," Holly informed him.

"They're not suing, are they?" Roger asked worriedly.

"No," Holly assured him. "Faith came by in an unofficial capacity. She blasted me for the tone of the story and the phrasing of the headline and warned me to watch it on behalf of her entire family."

"Ah, yes, Faith: half hard-nosed Spaulding, and half righteously indignant Bauer. She got the worst of both gene pools," Roger replied.

"She left here convinced that you were responsible for getting me to let that story run on the front page," Holly told him.

"Well, I was," Roger said.

"Not the way she meant," Holly replied. "She thinks that you're still out to slander and humiliate Alexandra, and now that I'm your wife, I faithfully do your bidding with no thought of my own at all."

"Great. It's not enough that they look down on you because you married me. Now they think you've turned into some kind of Stepford wife," Roger said crossly.

"They can think whatever they want. I'm beginning to realize that they never knew the real me, or wanted to. You do, and Blake does. That's all I need." She paused, then said, "I'll have to stay tonight, though, to make sure that all the 'i's are dotted and all the 't's are crossed before the paper goes to press." She lowered her voice. "I pretty much have one foot out the door, and I'd like to make the transition without another snafu of this magnitude."

"Do you want me to come by, bring dinner after most of the rest of the staff goes home?" Roger offered.

"That's sweet, but no," Holly replied. "I'll see you at home. By the fire," she added, picturing his reaction when he found out that she was going to buy the other half of WSPR. Fletcher shuffled into her office then, insisting on talking to her. "I have to go. Duty calls. I heard that, Fletcher."

"What did he say?" Roger wanted to know.

"Don't worry about it," she told him. "I'll see you tonight." Ignoring Fletcher, she added, "And I meant everything I said before. I don't regret the first, and I don't care about the second, at all. I love you."

"I love you too. I'll see you tonight." Roger hung up. Holly sounded in better spirits than he expected. It must be the promise of her new job at WSPR, he thought. At least she wouldn't be stuck toiling at the _Journal _with Fletcher and Nick for much longer.

_February 15, 1995, 12:14 PM—The Spaulding Mansion Dining Room_

"You did **WHAT?!**" Alexandra bellowed.

Four faces around the formal dining table gave Alex worried looks. The fifth, still looking haggard, remained unruffled but determined. "Stay calm, Alexandra," Nick said. "I'm selling my half of WSPR to Holly in exchange for her share of the _Journal_."

"But she married Roger Thorpe!" Alex shouted.

"All the more reason to get her out of the _Journal_, especially after this morning's front page headline," Alan grumbled.

"Alexandra, I can't keep juggling everything I've been trying to juggle these past few months. Something's gotta give," Nick told her. "WSPR is what matters the least to me. As far as I'm concerned, Holly is welcome to it, as long as I get her share of the _Journal_ in return. And this way, we cut ties with Roger Thorpe once and for all. He may have started his own consulting firm, but he's still half-owner of WSPR. We'll never be able to run the station the way we want to while he's got half of it, and he's not going to give it up. It's time to cut our losses there. Between the _Journal_ and Spaulding Enterprises, I've got more than enough on my plate professionally. WSPR was just a burdensome distraction. This is a good thing."

"For what it's worth, I agree with Nick, Aunt Alex," Alan-Michael said then.

"So do I," Faith agreed. "The further away we all stay from the Thorpes, the better off we'll be."

"Hear, hear," Alan added.

Hope looked at Alex's pinched face and angry eyes worriedly. "Alexandra, Ed told you no business for the rest of the week," she reminded her sister-in-law. "You need your rest."

"Hope is right," Nick said, and Alan quickly echoed him. "You don't need to worry about this, Alexandra. I'll take care of it, and I'm sure when you've thought it over, you'll see it's the best move."

Alex excused herself from the table and headed upstairs to her bedroom then, her mind reeling. Nick was selling WSPR…to Holly! Alex had intended for the station to be part of his legacy, and he was turning his back on it, getting rid of it. As if that wasn't bad enough, he was giving it up to Roger Thorpe's wife. Yes, she had given the Spaulding half of WSPR to Nick to do with as he saw fit, but she never thought he would see fit to willingly, even eagerly, deposit it in the hands of the woman dense enough to marry Alexandra's sworn male enemy, because Roger Thorpe would always be her sworn male enemy, just as Mindy Lewis would always be her sworn female enemy.

Alex was beginning to feel like everything was spiraling out of control. It was a feeling she didn't like…and a feeling that she could trace directly back to the root of the worst evil in her life: Roger Thorpe.

She knew she'd never be able to change Nick's mind about this, so determined was he to go through with the sale, so she would have to resign herself to the fact that Nick was turning his back on the one part of his legacy that she had hand-picked with him in mind because it was compatible with his passion for journalism.

But she didn't have to like the fact that Roger Thorpe would end up benefiting from Nick's decision, and she didn't. She hated it.

_February 15, 1995, 9:19 PM—Roger and Holly's House _

"I'm finally home," Holly said as she shut the front door behind herself. Roger was sitting on the edge of the couch, arranging a motley variety of what looked to be candy, wine, medicine bottles, and takeout menus on the coffee table. "What is all that?" she asked.

He looked up at her. "Well, I was trying to anticipate every possible contingency regarding how you would be feeling after the day you had," he said. "So, I have your migraine medicine, tension headache medicine, and ibuprofen, depending on what kind of headache you may have," he began, touching each bottle in turn. "I have your favorite wine," he gestured to the wine bottle, "candy," he touched the small gold box of assorted Godiva chocolates, "your favorite cheesecake in the fridge, your favorite ice cream in the freezer, takeout menus in case you want something besides dessert," he tapped the stack of takeout menus next to the chocolates, "I'll start water for tea if you want, antacids," he picked up the bottle of antacids, "oh, and the fire you requested." He inclined his head toward the fire blazing in the hearth. "So, what do you need?"

She gave him a soft, tender look of love that filled him with warmth as she dropped her bag on the floor, tossed her coat on the chair, and settled herself beside him on the couch. "Well, first, I need this…" She kissed him. "And then one of these…" She hugged him, relaxing into his embrace when his arms went around her. After a long moment, she drew back from him, remaining in the circle of his arms as she clasped her hands loosely behind his neck. "You're wonderful," she said. "But my stomach is fine, so I don't need the antacids. I don't have a headache, but honestly, I wouldn't mind a back rub once we're in bed. I'm really not hungry right now…at least, not for food." She grinned mischievously at him. "And, oh yeah…Nick wants to sell me his half of WSPR in exchange for my share in the _Journal, _and I said yes, so meet your new co-owner."

"What?" Roger asked, his face registering his complete surprise.

"It's the one thing that saved this day from being one of the top five worst days ever…well, until I walked in the front door and saw you here with all this," she said, gesturing to the coffee table with one hand. "Nick is selling me his half of WSPR. I'm selling him my share in the _Journal_ in exchange. So you and I are going to own WSPR together, 50-50. Nick's already got his lawyers taking care of the paperwork, and I called Leo Flynn this morning—I hope that's okay—to handle my part of the deal. Nick wants to have something on paper by Friday. And I didn't tell you over the phone because I wanted to see the expression on your face when I told you," she finished, her smile now jubilant instead of mischievous.

"Co-owners? You and me?" he asked, just to make sure he had it straight.

"Co-owners. You and me," Holly replied. "As Nick pointed out when he made his pitch, this severs the last tie the Thorpes and the Spauldings had. Now they'll have the newspaper, we'll have the TV station, and if either Nick or I have anything to say about it, which we will, never the twain shall meet."

"This is incredible!" Roger exclaimed happily, a mile-wide grin on his face as he pulled her to him again in a celebratory hug. "I never thought they'd part with their half of WSPR."

"Apparently, last night was the impetus Nick needed to get out of the station," Holly replied as she hugged him back.

"Well, I certainly trust you to do a better job at the station than I would ever trust a Spaulding," Roger said as she drew back to look at him again.

"That isn't even the best part," Holly said, brushing one hand through his hair. "It didn't hit me until I was driving home that being co-owner and station manager has one very distinct advantage over being publisher of the _Journal_: a lot more evenings free, and they start a lot earlier."

"Hey, that's right!" Roger exclaimed, realizing. "You could probably be out of the station by 6 almost every night."

"That's exactly what I was thinking," Holly replied. She let both her hands fall to his shoulders, then pushed him back on the couch, stretching out on top of him once he was horizontal. "And that means more evenings spent right here, just like this…" She trailed off as she leaned down to kiss him.

After the kiss, when they were lying there with their foreheads touching, Roger said, "How much better can life get?"

"I'm not sure, but somehow I know it will," Holly replied before kissing him again.

_February 15, 1995, 10:23 PM—The Spaulding Mansion_

Fletcher knocked on the library door. Alexandra set aside her book. "Fletcher," she said.

"Alex," Fletcher said as he entered and sat on the end of the couch opposite her.

"It's been so hectic, we haven't had a chance to talk about last night," Alex began.

"I think we said everything there was to say before I walked out of here," Fletcher replied. He studied his fingernails for a moment before looking back up at Alex. "We're not giving each other what we need here, Alex. Relationships are never easy, but it shouldn't be this hard."

Alex's face fell. "Fletcher, please," she started to say.

"Ben and I are moving back to our place this weekend," he said. "Friday, actually, because he has the day off from school for some teacher in-service thing. You and I need some time apart…time to figure out if we even **can** give each other what we need. Because right now, all we're doing is making each other miserable."

"You are not making me miserable, Fletch!" Alex exclaimed.

"I'm not making you happy," Fletcher replied. "You don't have time for me, for us. And I am obviously not enough for you in any way. You're consumed with worry about Alan taking over the company, and now you're mad at Nick for selling his half of WSPR to Holly. Frankly, it'll be a relief to get her out of the _Journal_. Maybe things can finally get back to normal down there."

"So you think Nick is doing the right thing?" Alex asked distastefully.

"Yes. Obviously you don't," Fletcher said. He sighed. "Look, Alex, I'm never gonna be a fan of Roger Thorpe…and as far as I'm concerned, Holly's credibility and integrity disappeared when she decided she loved him again and married him…but as someone who's been stuck with a ringside seat at a window on their newlywed bliss the past six weeks, I've gotta say, Roger's not nearly as concerned with you or Spaulding Enterprises anymore as you are with him. Amazingly enough, it seems that what he really wanted all along was Holly…and now he has her. So let them deal with each other and maybe they'll stay out of everybody else's orbit and the rest of us can finally have some well-deserved peace."

"After that hatchet job in the _Journal_ this morning—" Alex began angrily.

"Whoa, blood pressure," Fletcher reminded her. "It made me mad too, and there will be a retraction on the front page tomorrow, written by yours truly. But honestly? It wasn't something malicious against you. It wasn't Roger using Holly and the paper to humiliate you, and it wasn't Holly deciding to get some kicks by taking a shot at you on the front page. She was so giddy that he was coming home yesterday that she practically went skipping out the door after lunch, and nobody saw or heard from her again until this morning. Which is disgusting, I know, and as the publisher it's definitely her fault that that story made the paper, but all it was was carelessness on her part. Which is an even better reason to get her out of the _Journal_. Considering Roger owns the other half of WSPR, and the fact that she's nauseatingly in love with him, she won't want to tick off ol' Roger the Dodger at work, because his opinion obviously means a hell of a lot more to her than mine or Nick's or, really, anybody else's."

"I just can't see Holly and Roger owning WSPR together as a good thing," Alex fumed. "And I'm surprised at you for giving her the benefit of the doubt with regard to the station."

"I'm not giving her the benefit of the doubt about anything. I'm just glad I'm not going to be stuck working with her for much longer," Fletcher said. He peered at Alex then, studying her. "Alex, why do you care so much about Holly and Roger? I mean, I get that them being blissfully happy together is an unexplained phenomenon of science fiction, but **nobody** gets that, especially those of us who **used** to think that Holly had a brain in her head and knew how to use it.

"But Roger isn't working with Alan anymore. He's not working with **you** anymore. He has no apparent interest in Spaulding Enterprises since he married Holly and launched his own consulting firm with Blake. Now Holly's leaving the _Journal _in the very near future—which can't be near enough for me—to go to WSPR. They are both finally going to be out of your orbit...with any luck, hopefully for good! Let Roger be Holly's problem and Holly be Roger's problem. Don't make them your problem. Don't you have enough of those already?"

"You're walking out on me because of them!" Alexandra exclaimed. "I'm entitled to be upset about that, and angry at them for it!"

"My moving out has nothing to do with Roger and Holly," Fletcher said.

"You threw their happiness in my face when we argued last night, telling me Roger is better at his marriage to Holly than I am at my relationship with you!" Alex reminded him.

"I wasn't throwing them in your face. I was just calling it how I see it," Fletcher replied. "I'm leaving because you and I both need some time alone, time to think about what we really want and need from each other, and whether we're capable of giving it to each other. This isn't a break-**up**. It's just a break. And we need it, Alexandra. We haven't been working…we haven't really been an 'us'…for months now. And if I'm going to be with you, I need to feel like we're an 'us.'"

"Like Roger and Holly," Alex said bitterly.

"All right, yes, like Roger and Holly," Fletcher replied. His calm tone infuriated Alex further. "And like Alan and Hope. For you and me to truly be an 'us,' you have to need me at least a little bit."

"I do," Alex said earnestly.

"You have to need me at least a little bit so that I know it," Fletcher amended. "And I have to at least be on your list of priorities. Like I said last night, I'd like to be first once in a while, but as it stands right now, I don't even feel like I rate dead last on that list. That's not a relationship, Alex. Not a satisfying one. We both have some decisions to make. And I know it's gonna be hard for me to think about much else, but I also know I have to do my thinking away from here…away from you." He kissed her gently then. "You take care of yourself," he said. Then he turned and walked out of the library without looking back.

After he was gone, Alexandra sat down on the couch again, clutching a throw pillow to her chest with tears in her eyes. "Damn you, Roger," she said quietly. "Damn you to hell."


	5. What Kind of Day Has It Been

_**Thanks to my trusty collaborator Mendys for helping me with the right mindsets and some of the dialogue for both Fletcher and Hope's conversation and the Bauer/Spaulding table conversation. Also, the Roger and Holly scene at the end of this chapter actually happened on the show, but I moved the date forward, changed the circumstances a bit to explain why they are where they are, and took the scene to its natural conclusion, which the show did not do. Happy reading!**_

_February 17, 1995, 10:42 AM—The Spaulding Mansion_

"Good, you aren't gone yet."

Fletcher looked up from his suitcase to see Hope standing in the doorway. "No, but we're just about to ready to take off," he said.

Hope nodded and entered the room. "Alan is downstairs with Alexandra right now. We're taking her to lunch at the club with Uncle Ed and Maureen and Michelle before this afternoon's board meeting, which she insists on attending. We'll be leaving in a minute."

"That's good," Fletcher said. "She's been cooped up here all week. She needs to get out. And I don't think my heart could take her watching Ben and me leave."

Hope looked at Fletcher sadly. "I understand why you're doing this, and I even agree with you," she said. "But don't give up on her, Fletcher. I know it's been hard for you to see lately, but she really does love you, very much."

"I'm not giving up, Hope. That's why I'm leaving. Call it a strategic retreat," Fletcher said as he zipped his suitcase closed. "I love her too. A lot. Too much to stay here and let whatever might be left between us die on the vine." He looked at Hope. "How did you do it?" he asked.

"Do what?" Hope asked.

"How did you stay married to Alan all those years he was in prison?" Fletcher asked. "I mean, I know he didn't act alone, but he paid the price for it, so you and Alan-Michael and Faith had to pay too. And yet you still loved him and stood by him that whole time, and you waited for him, and from where I sit, you've been closer than ever since he got out."

"It's not easy loving a Spaulding," Hope replied. "But the best things in life never are easy. There's no magic formula, Fletcher. Alan and I have had plenty of spats and some really serious arguments over the years. We almost didn't make it. When Alan-Michael wasn't much more than a baby, I took him and left, just like you're doing with Ben now. But when Alan and I ultimately decided to try again, we had learned some things about ourselves and each other in our time apart, things we vowed to never forget.

"Alan and Alexandra were both damaged by their upbringing. Brandon was a very hard man. When Alan and I got back together, I understood what drives him to do some of the things he's done, and why he has such a need for control, much better than I had when we were first together; and Alan came to trust that I would never do anything to hurt him in any way, so he relaxed his defenses a bit more with me, which freed me to open myself up to him again without fearing that he would lash out if he felt like he was losing too much control again. We built trust, which hadn't happened when we were first married.

"We still have our share of arguments, but we trust one another not to go too far, not to hurt one another as badly as we did when we were younger and far more imprudent.

"Any 'us' is made up of 'you' and 'me.' Alan and I had to learn how to be Alan the 'you' and Hope the 'me' in addition to being Alan and Hope 'the us.' We love and trust each other enough to do that, and we want it enough to work at it. You can never **stop** working at it, because you never stop growing and changing, either as 'us' or as 'you' and 'me.'

"Alan's imprisonment was the hardest thing we ever went through, but after the initial shock and anger, nothing had really changed, except that we wouldn't be living in the same place for a few years. Long before Alan went to prison, we loved each other, we made a commitment to share our lives, and we built a family together, so when he was sentenced, we knew that the only separation we would have to bear was physical. There was never any question about it. In the end, our marriage and family were the only important things. Preserving those, giving Alan something to hang onto by letting him know that the kids and I would be here waiting for him when he could come home to us, knowing that we would be together again someday and holding on to that fact when things got really rough… Nothing else mattered. We all did what we had to do, and we got through it."

"I hope Alan knows how lucky he is to have you," Fletcher said.

"He does," Hope replied. "Alexandra knows she's lucky to have you too, Fletcher. She's just…temporarily lost sight of that fact."

Fletcher sighed. "Well, I hope she regains sight of it soon," he said. He looked at the floor before looking back up at Hope. "Look out for her for me?" he asked.

"Always," Hope replied.

Fletcher nodded. "Thank you."

Ben came in then. "I'm all packed, Dad." He said. "Hello, Mrs. Spaulding."

"Hello, Ben," she greeted him. She hugged Fletcher then. "We're going to miss you two around here." Fletcher patted her back. "Give us five minutes to get Alexandra out of here before you go, okay?"

"Sure," Fletcher said. Hope hugged Ben goodbye before going downstairs, where Alan stood when she entered the room.

"Are we ready?" Hope asked. "I told Uncle Ed and Maureen we'd meet them at the club at 11:30."

Alexandra just looked at Hope and Alan. "I know why you're doing this," she said as they gathered their coats and things.

"We're doing this because you haven't been out of the house in a few days, and because Ed wants to make sure you're following his orders," Alan said.

"You're doing this to get my mind off the fact that Fletcher and Ben are leaving today," Alex retorted.

"We're doing it for all those reasons," Hope said. "And for the most important reason of all: because we love you, Alexandra."

Alexandra had always thought that Alan was a lucky man indeed to have the good fortune to marry and hang on to Hope, to have a life and a family with her. She was an excellent mother to Alan-Michael and Faith, an excellent surrogate mother to Phillip (and to Amanda when she was around, or even in touch, which, unlike Phillip, she wasn't lately), and a true helpmate to Alan in every way. Her brother had a life far beyond what either of them had ever imagined themselves capable of having when they were younger, and while she would never begrudge him the happiness he had with Hope and the children, she did envy him the stability and security that loving Hope had brought to his life, and the way they had maintained that stability and security for one another and for their children through everything that had happened these last few decades. Alex herself had never come close to anything like that in her own life: Eric Luvanoczek…the Baron von Halkein…Roger Thorpe. She grimaced at the thought of Roger, but Alan was helping Hope on with her coat, so they both missed it. She thought that she could finally have something like it with Fletcher…if this self-imposed break he was putting them through didn't make him decide to end things with her once and for all.

Alan extended one arm to Hope and the other to Alexandra. "Shall we, ladies?" he asked. Hope smiled up at her husband as she threaded her arm through his. Alexandra took hold of Alan's other arm, plastered a fake smile on her face, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, knowing that Fletcher and Ben would be gone when she came back. She only hoped they weren't gone forever.

_February 17, 1995, 11:24 AM—Lakeland Country Club_

Roger was waiting at the country club bar for Holly, Leo Flynn, and Nick to arrive for the lunch meeting at which Nick would officially sell his half of WSPR to Holly, and Holly would officially sell her share of the _Journal_ to Nick. He was surprised when he saw Alexandra Spaulding enter the bar area, but he couldn't resist saying something.

"Uh oh. I hope the kitchen staff has hidden all the knives."

Alex saw Roger sitting at the bar, what looked like a mineral water with a twist of lime in front of him, and frowned. "What are **you** doing here?" she asked coldly. "Considering your history with this place, I would think you wouldn't dare to ever show your face here for fear of getting shot, thrown out, or publicly humiliated again."

"My fortunes have greatly improved since those bleak days," Roger replied, taking a sip of his drink, "while yours seem to have gone in the other direction. I'm sorry I missed your grand performance the other night, but I was celebrating Valentine's Day in a much more traditional manner with my wife. I read all about it, though. Only a butcher knife, eh, Alex? What, you couldn't get your hands on a machine gun on such short notice?"

Alex glared at Roger. "Where **is** Holly, anyway?" she asked. "You're not Velcroed to her side for once?"

"Holly's on her way," Roger replied with a smile. He regarded her with a relaxed amusement that only served to further infuriate her. "Are you meeting Fletcher here?" He answered his own question immediately. "No, after the other night, probably not." He took another sip of his drink before looking at her again, his eyes gleaming predatorily. "So, Mindy's got her hooks into another man in your life. For a toothless street whore, she sure has something the men in your life are drawn to like moths to a flame. Phillip…Nick…now Fletcher."

"You left yourself off that list," Alex reminded him, feeling her blood pressure start to rise.

"I don't like remembering my past mistakes, and honestly, I'm not sure which of you was the bigger mistake, you or Mindy," Roger replied. "I'm just glad those days are far behind me. Not everyone is lucky enough to finally get it right with the love of their life. Like you, for instance. Who **was** the love of your life, anyway? We know it wasn't me. And if it's Fletcher…well, past experience shows that you'd better neutralize Mindy fast. Since the knife thing didn't work, have you considered getting a couple of Dobermans and training them to rip her throat out? You do like to go for the jugular, as we both well know. You might as well be literal about it this time."

Before Alex could come up with a suitable retort, Alan and Hope entered the bar, looking for her. "Alexandra, there you are!" Hope exclaimed. "Uncle Ed and Maureen and Michelle are waiting in the dining room."

Alan knew Roger was standing there, and was certain Roger had said something to Alexandra just by the look on Alexandra's face, but he refused to look directly at Roger. Instead he sniffed, while focusing on his sister, "There's no need to lower yourself to the level of Roger Thorpe, Alexandra."

"Come on, Alexandra, our table's ready and our lunch companions are waiting," Hope said as she urged Alex toward the dining room.

"Try to stay away from the kitchen knives, Alex!" Roger called after her. "You wouldn't want to get yourself banned from here for life." Alexandra and Alan both stiffened and momentarily stopped in their tracks, their backs to Roger, but Hope gently propelled them both toward the dining room with a hand on each of their arms.

In the dining room, they joined Ed, Maureen, and Michelle at their table. After exchanging hellos, Ed said, "You look upset, Alexandra. You're supposed to be watching that."

"She just had a run-in with Roger Thorpe at the bar, Ed," Alan said.

"Oh, well, that explains it," Ed replied.

"He is just so smug!" Alexandra complained heatedly. "I didn't think it was possible for him to get any more full of himself than he already was, but that man is completely insufferable now! What Holly sees in him, I'll never know."

"That will remain one of life's greatest unsolved mysteries," Ed agreed.

"She loves him," Maureen said simply.

"Yes, Maureen," Ed said with exaggerated patience. "It's **why **she loves him, and **why** she married him, that we can't figure out."

"You do realize you're giving Roger exactly what he wants with this kind of reaction," Hope said. "He was deliberately pushing your buttons in an effort to bait you, Alexandra. And Uncle Ed, that goes for you too. We can all do without a repeat of what happened at the party we had for you here after the 4th of July the year before last."

"You're right, Hope," Ed said. He focused on Alex then. "Alex, no one understands better than I do how much Roger's very existence rankles you. But he's not worth it. It's unfortunate that he was here today—had we known he would be, we would have gone somewhere else for lunch—but I hear you're finally just about completely rid of him in every aspect of your life, and I'd like to be the first to congratulate you on that, because it **is **an achievement. Don't let him bait you into a bad reaction. Your health is too important to let him be a detriment to it. Taking Roger on again would just make you lose something you can't afford to lose. You know he crosses lines even your brother at his worst would never cross."

"Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, Ed," Alan grumbled while Maureen glared at Ed. Alan had been in agreement with Ed, right up until that point.

Alex noted Maureen's glare. "Maureen, if I may give you a word of advice?" she said. "Your husband knows Roger Thorpe far better than you could ever hope to. And I think we should close the subject right now so that Michelle can tell us all about her Valentine study date with young Bill Lewis." Though she was smoldering over Roger, Alex nonetheless smiled at Michelle, who brightened at the fact that Alexandra Spaulding was actually interested in hearing about her date.

As Michelle began to tell Alexandra and the others about her Valentine's Day night spent eating pizza and doing homework with Bill over at Quint and Nola's house, Holly arrived and found Roger at the bar. She greeted him with a quick kiss, then said, "Nick was right behind me leaving the _Journal_. Any sign of Leo yet?"

"Leo is present and accounted for," Leo Flynn piped up as he entered, setting his briefcase on the bar. He opened it and removed some papers. "These are the originals of what I faxed over to you earlier this morning, Holly," he said. "They're just waiting for the proper signatures."

She accepted the papers from Leo. "Thank you, Leo, for taking care of this so promptly."

Nick entered then, with one of the many corporate lawyers Spaulding Enterprises had on retainer. "All right, let's get this taken care of," he said. The Spaulding lawyer removed a similar set of papers from his briefcase, Holly and Nick signed on the appropriate dotted lines, exchanged sets of papers, and that was that. "When are you planning on leaving for WSPR?" Nick asked.

Holly raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you in that much of a hurry to get me out of the _Journal_?" she asked laconically.

"Truthfully? Yes," Nick said.

She placed a quelling hand on Roger's arm when he started to rise off his bar stool in response to what Nick said. "I can have my office cleaned out by 6:00 tonight," she replied. "Is that soon enough for you?"

"That'll be fine," Nick said.

"All right, then," Holly said.

Nick and his lawyer headed for the dining room then, and Roger and Holly were alone. "Thank you," Holly said.

"For what?" Roger asked.

"For not punching Nick out."

"I wanted to."

"I know, but you didn't."

"Well, contrary to popular opinion, I am capable of letting the nasty remark of a Spaulding go unanswered," he said.

"Yes, you are," she agreed. "Especially when you've already taken a few shots at another Spaulding."

Roger looked chagrined. "You heard that?" he asked.

"No, but I saw Alex in the dining room looking peeved, and you were sitting here with that 'I just zinged one of my enemies' look about you, so I just put two and two together," she replied. She looked at him, concerned. "You really shouldn't poke at her of all people. The last thing I want is her coming after you the way she went after Mindy the other night."

"She went after Mindy because she caught Mindy trying to remove Fletcher's tonsils with her tongue. Believe me, I would never try to do that!" Roger said. Then he flagged down the bartender. "A bottle of '65 Lafite Rothschild, please," he told the bartender.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Thorpe," the bartender replied.

"'65 Lafite Rothschild?" Holly asked.

"This is an auspicious occasion," Roger told her, accepting two wineglasses and the bottle of wine from the bartender with a nod. "It deserves an auspicious toast." He opened the wine, poured it, and handed Holly a glass. Then he picked up his own glass. "To the new co-owner of WSPR," he said, looking at her with a smile, "who is as intelligent, as talented, and as on the ball as she is beautiful. May our professional partnership take WSPR to new heights, and be even one-tenth as successful as our personal partnership." He touched the rim of his wineglass to hers, and they both took a sip.

Holly set her glass on the bar and looked at Roger. "Do you have anything pressing at work this afternoon?" she asked.

"No, actually. Chrissy's working on the presentation for McNamara and she insists she doesn't need me looking over her shoulder while she does it, and our conference call with him isn't until Monday afternoon," he said. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Maybe," she said with a coy smile.

He laughed knowingly. "Maybe, huh? Well, I guess I'll just have to tag along wherever it is you're going to see for myself."

She leaned in close and stole a kiss in reply, which led to him stealing a kiss back from her, and then the two of them stopping with the teasing for some serious, but not scandalous enough to get them thrown out of the bar, prolonged kissing.

They didn't know Alexandra was watching them on her way back to her table from the ladies' room, and had been since Roger had poured the wine. They didn't see the way she silently fumed at their toast, their shared smiles, and their public display of affection. Alex had known when Nick and Callum McAdams, one of the lawyers the company kept on retainer, had entered the dining room that Nick had just officially turned over WSPR to Holly, which explained why Roger was meeting her for lunch: to celebrate.

Alex took great umbrage at the sight of Roger and Holly being so in love, so joyful. If anyone on the planet deserved happiness and peace of mind, it certainly **wasn't **that monster Roger Thorpe, and yet he had the world on a string, while Alex's world was falling apart at the seams. There was no justice in that.

To Alex's way of thinking, Holly had completely thrown away any sense she once possessed to actually go and marry Roger again, but she didn't seem to care, because, for reasons far beyond the realm of comprehension of anyone in Springfield-with the possible exception of Blake, who didn't count as far as Alex was concerned because she was their daughter-she was happy with him, and the adoring way she looked at him was positively sickening to Alex.

Why did Holly deserve to be happy with Roger…why did Roger deserve to be happy at all…while Alex faced the possibility of losing Fletcher for good; still had to contend with Mindy Lewis after all these years; had her own son give up the one thing she had given him for his future that she had thought he would hold onto because it was centered on the one area of his life before they had learned they were mother and son that remained his passion after learning he was a Spaulding; and still had to battle Alan for control of Spaulding Enterprises, both for herself and for Nick's future?

She had long known that life wasn't fair, but she had never really known just how unfair it could be until she saw Roger and Holly canoodling at the country club bar. Alex had nothing to look forward to that afternoon except the board meeting she had been dreading. The irony was that Alan wouldn't have to do anything to make her look bad at this board meeting. She had managed to do that all on her own on Valentine's Day, and now, she would have to face the board in two hours and try to answer for her behavior that night.

She returned to the dining room then, not that Roger and Holly noticed. They didn't notice anything but each other. Alex plastered a smile on her face and reflected after leaving the club that she must have done a good job, because no one at her table called her out about looking stressed or enraged, both of which she was feeling intensely.

_February 17, 1995, 3:47 PM—Spaulding Enterprises Boardroom_

Alexandra, Nick, Alan, Alan-Michael, and Lucy Cooper were the only ones left in the boardroom. The other board members had all left. Lucy was sitting beside Alan-Michael at the far end of the long table, holding a towel full of ice cubes on his sore wrist. After the room had cleared, Nick had gone for Alan's throat, and Alan-Michael had pulled his cousin off his father, at which point Nick had pushed at Alan-Michael and the two had scuffled until Nick twisted Alan-Michael's wrist to get him to stop scuffling. Alan and Lucy had both hurried to tend to Alan-Michael, but he insisted he was fine, or would be after he put an ice pack on his wrist, which sent Lucy hurrying to get one.

"Why didn't you defend Alexandra?" Nick demanded of his uncle once he was sitting in a chair beside Alexandra, across the table from Alan.

"The board members didn't say anything that wasn't true," Alan pointed out. "And they did, at least, have the facts, unlike your paper."

"It wasn't **my** paper when the story ran, and you know it, Alan!" Nick exploded. "Henry Chamberlain did more to defend Alexandra than you did, and you're her brother! But then, you stood to gain a hell of a lot more than Henry Chamberlain did, didn't you, because you got what you've been after all these months: you got control of Spaulding!"

"It wasn't personal, it was business," Alan replied. "Alexandra knows that. She understands it. She also understands how important our corporate image is to the stockholders. I present a more stable image as CEO in the eyes of the board right now than Alexandra does."

"This family!" Nick exploded, shoving his hands through his hair in frustration. "This is unreal!"

"On the contrary, it's very real," Alexandra said. "Alan is right. I understand why he didn't defend me. Had the situation been reversed, I would have done exactly the same."

"No!" Nick shouted. "No, you wouldn't. You're better than that, Alexandra!"

"Am I?" Alex asked. "I don't think so." She looked at Alan. "So, you finally got what you wanted. You're the CEO again."

"And you'll be the Chief Operations Officer," Alan said, "a position which has considerably less pressure than the CEO, which will be better for your health." He looked at Nick then. "Contrary to what you're thinking, I am looking out for my sister's best personal interests by relieving her of the burdens of the CEO position," he informed his nephew. Nick snorted at this. Alan-Michael and Lucy were still ignoring everyone else as she removed the ice pack and inspected his wrist, gently probing for any swelling.

"Of course," Alex said. She looked to Nick. "Apologize to Alan-Michael."

"What?!" Nick exclaimed disbelievingly.

"Apologize to Alan-Michael for hurting his wrist," Alex repeated. "That wasn't necessary."

Nick shook his head. "Unbelievable," he said. "I'm going to **my paper**, where at least things make sense…a hell of a lot more sense than they'll ever make here!" Then he stormed out, still chafing at the way his mother seemed to placidly accept that her own brother's refusal to defend her to the board had gone a long way toward costing her the CEO position of Spaulding Enterprises.

What Nick didn't know…what no one knew…was that Alexandra was not placidly accepting anything. She was shoving down all the resentment and anger and fear she felt at all that was happening to her, at all the unfavorable changes in her life that she did not want and had no control over, bottling it up inside. And her reaction to all of those unfavorable changes would be another explosion, far worse than Valentine's Day…and they wouldn't know for certain that this explosion had occurred, with disastrous results for one of the few people who had said and done nothing directly to hurt or enrage Alexandra, until the damage was already done.

_February 17, 1995, 4:08 PM—Springfield Journal_

After lunch at the country club, packing up all of Holly's personal effects from her office ("This goes on the top of the box, and be very careful with it," Holly said before placing the wedding portrait of her and Roger that Blake had given her the day they had returned early from their honeymoon after hearing about the Fifth Street Fire), and Roger carrying the box to her car and putting it in the trunk, Holly said, "There's one more thing I want to do here."

"What?" Roger asked. He knew they hadn't forgotten anything of Holly's from the office, and she had said her goodbyes to Tangie and the few other staffers she wanted to say goodbye to; Nick was at the Spaulding board meeting, and Fletcher had taken the day off, not that there would have been much of a goodbye with either of them.

Holly headed back towards the building, so Roger followed her, still not sure what else she wanted to do. When they stepped off the elevator from the parking garage, Holly turned in the opposite direction from what used to be her office, confusing Roger even more. "Where are we going?" he asked her.

"You'll see," she replied. She looked over her shoulder at him and gave him the sexy smile that always made his blood run hot through his veins as she reached back and grabbed his hand, pulling him along after her. He hurried to keep up with her, finally matching her brisk stride and walking alongside her. She stopped in front of the darkroom door, still holding his hand. His eyes went wide with shock. Surely she wasn't going to…

Two minutes later, the darkroom door opened, and one of the _Journal_'s male photographers exited, holding a long yellow envelope of pictures and a handful of negatives. "It's all yours, Mrs. Lindsey-Thorpe. Thanks for being patient," the man said. "And good luck at WSPR."

"Thank you," Holly replied. After the employee was gone, Holly ushered Roger into the darkroom ahead of her, then closed and locked the door behind them, turned off the regular light, and turned on the red safelight by which photographs were developed.

He stood there looking at her, totally blown away by the fact that **this** was the one more thing she wanted to do at the _Journal_.

"I love this light," she said as she crossed the room to him. She put her arms around his neck when she reached him. "You look so good in this light. What would you think about putting this light in the bedroom?"

He gazed at her with a mix of lust and glee, sending shivers of anticipation up and down her spine. "I can't believe this. You're seducing me in the darkroom."

"Well, I'm certainly giving it my best shot," she said, closing what little distance there was between them by taking one step closer to him. "Since I'm out of here for good today, I figured this was my last chance to live out this particular fantasy. Is my seduction attempt working?" She gave him a quick kiss then before drawing back to look at him desirously.

"Oh, it's working," he agreed before kissing her.

She unbuttoned his jacket and shoved it off his shoulders as they kissed, pulling back to kiss his chin before letting her hands slide down to his tie, which she began untying. "I've never made love in a darkroom before," she said as she caught his eye before throwing his tie behind her, over her shoulder. "We could see what develops."

He grinned at her. "You're bad," he said, unbuttoning her jacket and shoving it off her shoulders before letting his hands roam down to her waist to pull her blouse free from her skirt.

"No, you're bad," she retorted, returning his grin as they went to work unbuttoning each other's shirts.

"You're badder," he said, letting her blouse fall from his fingers as she finally freed the last button on his shirt from its buttonhole and took it off. He pulled her into his arms for a searing kiss which she eagerly returned. Locked in each other's arms, they sank to the floor, where they shed the rest of their clothes and made passionate love by the glow of the red safelight.


	6. A Sinister Plan Takes Root

_**If you remember J Chamberlain from the actual show, forget him completely, because AJ Chamberlain is the one appearing in this story, and he bears no resemblance to that obnoxious, single-letter-named character. I picture Mark Lawson, who played Brody Lovett on One Life to Live, as AJ.  
**_

_**He'll have a very significant role in the next part, but he's mentioned in this part, as is his big sister Stacey, whom I picture being played by Alicia Minshew, who played Kendall Hart Slater on All My Children.**_

_March 29, 1995, 7:29 PM—Lakeland Country Club_

As February gave way to March, and March rolled on, Holly got settled in at WSPR and loved her new job—and not just because it meant she was home at a decent hour almost every night for dinner and whatever struck their fancy after dinner with Roger. The station was even more exciting and fulfilling than she had remembered, and she enjoyed the challenges each new day brought. As an added bonus, with Nick and Gilly both gone, the only WSPR staffer who came from a family with any kind of history with Roger was Quint and Nola's son AJ Chamberlain, who worked as a sportswriter for the 5, 6, and 10:00 newscasts. She didn't have much direct contact with AJ since he wasn't the head of the sports department, but he was cordial and respectful when they did speak (which was probably Quinton and Henry's influence, she thought), and although she knew next to nothing about sports, she liked AJ's style of writing, and so did the station's sportscasters.

Roger and Blake were a big hit with McNamara, and they got two more projects on the strength of their work for him—a computer account for something called the Internet that Roger excitedly explained to Holly would revolutionize the use of home computers and make it easy for anyone to get information on anything, and the consolidation of two pharmaceutical companies. Roger was in Chicago for four days in the middle of March with the Internet people, while Blake spent three of those same four days in Philadelphia with the pharmaceutical people. Holly actually coped with Roger's absence better than Ross coped with Blake's absence, because while Blake was out of town, poor Ross found himself trapped in an endless argument that broke out between the warring camps of Alan and Alan-Michael and Alexandra and Nick. Ross was drained by the time Blake called him on the second night, but he wasn't too drained for phone sex, which did improve his mood somewhat—not as much as the real thing would have, but he wasn't as stressed after he and Blake said their good nights (because it was 2 AM in Philadelphia and Blake had a 9 AM breakfast meeting) as he was before she called.

Faith palmed Metzger off on Frank Cooper as his new training officer. Frank was a good cop, but he was overly by-the-book, not having inherited the maverick gene from Buzz the way Harley and Lucy had, which Faith knew would drive Metzger batty, since Metzger was the original maverick, and a glory hound constantly seeking publicity to boot. Just to square things in a more personal manner, she also laced his deodorant with Ben-Gay. ("If I were you, I would have replaced his athlete's foot spray with mace," Faith's best friend Stacey Chamberlain, AJ's sister, said when Faith told her about it. "What can I say, Stace? I'm not as mercenary as you are," Faith had replied).

Nick and Mindy decided to get a divorce, but since Mindy was the one who filed—and didn't inform Nick she was doing so before he was served with the papers—Alex couldn't fully rejoice at the fact that the narcissistic trollop was finally going to be out of her precious son's life, because Nick hadn't been entirely certain he wanted a divorce yet, and though he resolved not to fight it, he was hurt by the failure of his marriage, and Alex loved him too much to find any joy in his pain.

Part of Alex also worried that Mindy was in such a hurry to divorce Nick because she wanted to go after Fletcher, and if that were the case, Alex would make Melinda Sue Lewis regret the day she was born, because while Fletcher and Ben were still living at their own house, Alex and Fletcher were talking several times a week, usually on the phone, usually late at night. Although they talked about Fletcher's work and Alex's health and gave each other reassurances that each of them was thinking about how to make their relationship work, Alex still vented a lot about Spaulding Enterprises, and about Alan, but she kept the Mindy complaints to a minimum (Fletcher was not pleased that Mindy had hurt Nick so much, either, and Alex was glad that Nick and Fletcher's friendship hadn't suffered for the events of Valentine's Day), and by unspoken agreement, they never brought up Roger and Holly, though Alex still did plenty of private stewing over the fact that they were so happy together and seemingly had the world by the tail while it was all she could do to make it through the day most days, stuck as the Chief Operations Officer instead of the CEO, constantly battling Alan and Alan-Michael, and sometimes battling Nick, on company matters, and then she had to come home to the mansion, where she had to deal with the constant reminder of Alan and Hope's devoted couplehood—not that they ever threw it in her face, and heaven knew those two could, and did, argue, but they had the security and stability in their loving marriage that Alex had never known in any of hers—and Nick's misery about his impending divorce and her own cold and lonely bedroom.

This is where everyone was personally the night of the black-tie fundraiser for Cedars Hospital at the country club.

Henry Chamberlain escorted Alexandra. Fletcher came stag, and he was working anyway, covering the fundraiser for the _Journal_. Holly and Roger came in right behind Blake and Ross, all four of them dressed to the nines, Roger and Ross in black tuxedos, Blake in a floor-length navy blue satin sheath, and Holly in a long-sleeved A-line forest green evening dress of taffeta and chiffon with a scoop neckline.

No one really spoke to Roger and Holly except for Ross and Blake (when Alan and Ed, who were standing together with Hope, Maureen, Alexandra, Henry, Rick, Eve, Faith, and her escort for the evening AJ, both complained about Roger showing up, Maureen said, "You expected Holly to leave him at home? Really?" "Not expected," Ed admitted. "We just would **rather** she had left him at home," Alan added.), but Roger and Holly didn't really seem to notice anyone but each other after Ross and Blake split off from them to mingle.

Since Fletcher was working, Alexandra didn't get to see much of him, as he was busy taking notes, interviewing Ed, Maureen, Rick, Eve, and various members of the hospital board, and conferring with the photographer he had been assigned about what kind of pictures would go best with the story.

Nick had opted not to come after Henry had agreed to escort Alex (and after learning that Mindy was attending with her grandfather H.B. Lewis), and while Alan was with Hope, Faith was talking with AJ and Stacey and the trio were congratulating Bridget and Dylan on their engagement and getting their first look at Bridget's engagement ring, and Alan-Michael was trying to be subtle about the fact that he was following Lucy Cooper around at a discreet distance all night long, that left Alexandra with some time alone when Henry was talking with Vanessa and Matt, or Quinton and Nola.

And when Alex was alone, she couldn't keep from watching Roger and Holly. They seemed to recognize that they were the pariahs of the gathering, but they didn't seem to care in the least, as Roger snagged drinks from the trays of passing waiters for Holly and himself, and Holly urged him to try certain hors d'oeuvres, even feeding him a couple of them. As they made their way through the ballroom, Roger's hand was at the small of Holly's back. Whenever they spoke, their heads were bent together, and at one point, Roger said something that made Holly laugh and swat at his arm, shaking her head. He returned her smile. Alex saw the way they looked at each other, the light of love glowing in their eyes, and the way Holly caressed Roger's face at one point and he caught hold of her hand as she lowered it from his jaw and kissed it.

She saw them edge their way to a quiet, secluded corner together, where they sat side by side, Holly's rings glinting when she wrapped her hand around Roger's arm, and three sentences into Ed Bauer's speech, she saw Holly lean in and whisper something in Roger's ear and Roger look over his shoulder at the doors leading to the patio. No one was watching the doors, as everyone was looking at Ed as he spoke—except Alex, who was watching Roger and Holly. Roger and Holly slipped outside unnoticed by everyone but her. Alex waited a few beats, excused herself from the table she was sharing with Henry, Alan and Hope, and exited the ballroom, taking the long way around to the patio and hiding out of sight so that she could observe Roger and Holly without them knowing she was there.

Once they were outside, away from everyone else (or so they thought, not knowing that Alexandra was lurking in the shadows, watching and eavesdropping on them), Roger said, "Thank you."

"I figured Ed's speech would be a good time for a breath of fresh air," Holly replied. "I know this is the last place you wanted to be tonight—"

"I'm with you. That's the only place I want to be every night," Roger said seriously.

"Could I at least get my apology out before you make me melt?" Holly asked as she put her arms around his neck.

"Is it a drag that we had to come to a hospital fundraiser on our three-month wedding anniversary because you had to represent WSPR? Yes. But it could have been much worse," Roger said, brushing Holly's hair behind her ear before putting his arms around her waist as they stood there on the quiet patio, looking into each other's eyes. "It might not **be** our three-month wedding anniversary. We might not be married at all. I might still be just existing, staring at you from across the room all night and wishing you were mine…if you were even **there **for me to stare at from across the room all night. I don't care where I am, Holly, as long as I'm with you. If that means being in a roomful of people who are looking at us like something the cat dragged in, it doesn't matter, because I'm with you. That's all that matters."

"Roger," Holly said emotionally, visibly moved.

A gust of wind came up then, cold in the pre-spring night. Roger took off his tuxedo jacket and draped it across Holly's shoulders, then pulled her close again. "You make me happy," he told her. "You do. I'm one of those real lucky guys whose dream actually did come true."

"You make me happy too," Holly said softly as she framed his face in her hands.

They kissed then, looking like two teenagers who had sneaked out of the prom to be alone together.

Alexandra was incensed. Roger Thorpe, with all the misery he had caused her and her family, all the misery he had caused most of Springfield at one time or another, was actually happy. In all the years she'd known him, she had never seen him so grounded, so centered, so genuinely and disgustingly sanguine.

It was unconscionable to her that her life should be in such turmoil, and Roger Thorpe, of all people, should be so content. He didn't know true pain and suffering, not the way she did.

Holly and Roger were no longer kissing. "Well," Holly was saying as she and Roger stood there in each other's arms, "for your birthday in a couple of weeks, I promise, it'll be just you and me."

"Just you and me what?" Roger asked eagerly.

"Nope, no hints. It's a surprise. I seem to remember you liking my surprises three months ago," she said with a smile.

"I **loved** your surprises three months ago," Roger replied. "I can't wait to see what you come up with for my birthday. But I'm putting you on notice now: on your birthday, **I'm** going to surprise **you**. I've got seven months to come up with something that'll knock your socks off, and I'll do it too."

"I don't doubt that for a second," Holly said, leaning into his embrace.

"Now that we've put in our appearance, and sneaked out on Ed's speech, are you ready to go home?" Roger asked, squeezing her shoulder.

"Yes," Holly replied.

Alexandra watched them leave, walking side by side, Roger's arm around Holly's shoulder, Holly's arm around Roger's waist, his tuxedo jacket still draped across her shoulders.

"I think I can arrange a surprise for your birthday too, Roger," Alex said aloud to herself as the beginnings of a sinister plan to finally get back at Roger began to hatch in her mind. "Only you won't love **my **surprise. Not at all."


	7. Lightning Crashes

_**I visited several GL history websites, and no birthday was listed at any of them for Roger (though there were birthdays listed for Holly, Blake, and Ross; go figure), so his birthday in my Springfield is April 10.**_

_April 9, 1995, 8:58 PM—The Spaulding Mansion_

Everything was in readiness. She had put the past few weeks to good use. Holly had turned out to be quite a creature of routine with her new job, which would make the whole thing easier. The workmen were scheduled to start bright and early the day after tomorrow. No one had any inkling what she was up to, and she congratulated herself on keeping them so completely in the dark. Of course, they were all busy with their own lives and jobs. Alan was right, she reflected; the Chief Operations Officer job wasn't nearly as burdensome as the CEO position. If it were, she never would have been able to put this plan into motion…this grand and glorious plan that she was finally going to execute tomorrow.

After all these years, Roger Thorpe would at last pay, and pay dearly, for every slight, every humiliation, every crime he had ever perpetrated against Alexandra Spaulding, her family, and her father's company.

And now, with less than twelve hours to go before it all began, Alex was eager to at last visit the kind of pain and suffering on him that he had visited on her over and over again for the past several years.

_April 10, 1995, 6:34 AM—Roger and Holly's House_

A soft kiss on his left temple made Roger start to stir from sleep. That first kiss was followed by one to his cheek that had him turning towards the source of the kisses as he gradually came more awake. Several more kisses followed, trailing down his jawbone to his chin, and instinctively his arms went around Holly, pulling her closer.

When her lips at last met his, the kiss lingered, slow and sweet. When she pulled back, it was just far enough so that when he opened his eyes, her face filled his entire line of sight, and when she spoke, he felt her breath whisper across his face. "Good morning, birthday boy," she said softly with a smile.

He smiled. "This is a switch," he remarked, referring to her kissing him awake, when it was always him kissing her awake.

"I wanted to see how it feels to be the one **doing** the kissing awake instead of the one **being** kissed awake," she replied.

"And?" he inquired.

"It's **all** good," she replied happily, resting her palms flat on his bare chest. "Happy birthday."

"Well, it's off to a happy start," he replied.

"Good," she said. "What do you say we keep that momentum going, hmm?" She leaned in to kiss him again and he eagerly responded, both of them relishing the gentle passion of their lovemaking as the light outside grew brighter. The slow simmer between them built to a bone-melting mutual climax.

They spooned together in the afterglow, Roger gently kissing and nuzzling Holly's hair and cheek as she threaded her fingers through his. "So far, this is the best birthday ever," he said.

She turned over to face him. "Oh, honey, you ain't seen nothin' yet!" she said with a grin.

"I beg to differ," he replied with a smirk.

Rolling her eyes, she continued."I have plans for you tonight. Prepare to be dazzled."

"I eagerly await the dazzling," he replied.

"Do you still have that meeting at Cedars with Maureen today?" Holly asked as she rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

"This morning," Roger called as he got up and started laying out his clothes for the day. "I'm surprised Thorpe and Marler is in contention for the job, though I'm sure that's all Maureen's doing."

"You're picturing Ed's head exploding if the committee gives the job to you and Blake!" Holly called from the shower.

"If I can't picture Ed Bauer's head exploding on my birthday, when can I?" Roger called back. "At least I wouldn't be working directly with him. I don't think I could manage that."

"I'm sure he couldn't either," Holly said as she entered the bedroom wrapped in a towel and headed for her closet. Roger groaned. "What?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.

"'What,' she asks so innocently," he replied. "Wife in nothing but a towel…me getting ready for work." He held his hands up like the two sides of a scale, then shot the left one into the air and left the right one down. "Like that's any contest."

"It is when your wife has to get to work early so she can be out of there by 5 for your birthday celebration tonight," Holly said in a sing-song voice.

Roger made a show of grumbling, but headed to the bathroom himself to get ready for the day. Once he was gone, Holly checked the back of her closet to make sure that her dress for tonight was safely hidden in its long, black garment bag.

She was dressed in her tan pants, white blouse, and brown blazer when he returned to the bedroom and dressed in his navy blue suit, a crisp white shirt, and royal blue tie with navy blue stripes. After a quick breakfast of fruit and toast, they each grabbed their briefcase and headed outside to their cars.

As they stood by their cars, Holly straightened Roger's tie, which didn't need straightening. "Have a good day, birthday boy," she said.

"You know, if you wanted to come by my office later this afternoon, I could come up with a way to get Chrissy out of there for an hour or two so we could be alone," he replied.

She laughed. "I won't give in on the sex on my desk, so you thought you'd try to get me to have sex on yours?" she asked.

"It **is** my birthday," he pointed out.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I have a feeling you won't be disappointed for long," she replied. "Just you wait until you see what I have up my sleeve for tonight, especially after Blake and Ross have gone home." She tapped his chest with her index finger. "And no snooping around if you decide to knock off work early and you get home before I do. I mean it."

"I won't snoop," he promised solemnly.

"You'd better not. I want this to be the most memorable birthday you've ever had," she said. She stretched up to kiss him then. "I'll see you later. I love you."

"I love you too." As he held her car door for her, he said, "I'll be counting the hours 'til tonight."

He closed the door, and then she fastened her seat belt and grinned at him through her open window. "Me too."

Then it was off to work for both of them…neither of them yet knowing that those early morning hours would be all the time they would spend together on Roger's birthday.

_April 10, 1995, 9:56 AM—Cedars Hospital, Maureen Bauer's Office_

"Roger! Come in!" Maureen exclaimed when he tapped on her open office door.

Roger entered and sat down in one of Maureen's guest chairs. She picked up a small rectangular package wrapped in paper covered with brightly colored balloons and a blue envelope and came around her desk. "Happy birthday!" she said, handing them to him with a smile.

"Maureen, really, you didn't have to do this," Roger said, but he couldn't help smiling.

"It's your birthday, and you're my friend, I wanted to do it," Maureen replied. "Michelle picked out the card and said to tell you 'happy birthday' from her too."

Roger opened the box, revealing a gold Mont Blanc pen. "Thank you very much," he said. Then he opened the card, which both Maureen and Michelle had signed; Ed, of course, had not signed it. "And tell Michelle 'thank you' for the card and the good wishes."

"You're very welcome, and I will," Maureen replied, leaning down to give him a quick hug. "Now, let's get down to business, because I'm sure you're doing something with Holly and Blake to celebrate later." She returned to her seat behind her desk and went on, "The committee of which I am head needs someone with your kind of business expertise to help us with the most cost-efficient way to get the new cardiac wing built. Thorpe and Marler is one of three consulting firms that we're inviting to look at the situation and make presentations showing how they would accomplish this. Are you interested?"

"Definitely," Roger replied.

Maureen picked up a stack of papers from her desk and handed them to him. "Here's the basic information," she said before picking up an identical stack from the top of her inbox. They spent the next hour looking it over together, with Maureen answering Roger's questions about what the committee was looking for from the consulting firm they wanted to hire. "We'll be hearing the presentations in three weeks," she concluded. "Will that be enough time for you and Blake to get something together for us?"

"Yes," he said. "Will that be enough time for you to convince your husband that the hospital won't collapse around his ears if Blake and I wind up with the job?"

"He knows you're in the running for the job. Is he happy about it? No. But he'll live with it if he has to, because this is about what's best for Cedars and the quality of care we can give our cardiac patients in the future," Maureen replied.

"Blake and I appreciate the opportunity, Maureen, truly," Roger said earnestly.

"Like I said, we can use your kind of expertise. But you have to beat out the other two consulting firms to get the job," she pointed out.

"We will," he said with a cocky grin as he put the papers in his briefcase.

"We'll see," she replied, but she was smiling too. "You have a great birthday."

"It just keeps getting better so far," he said with a smile before taking his leave.

_April 10, 1995, 12:41 PM—Roger and Holly's House_

Blake used her key to unlock the front door and entered her parents' house, carrying the birthday cake she had just picked up at the bakery for Holly. "Mom?" she called as she entered, setting the cake on the kitchen counter.

Blake heard footsteps on the basement steps, and a moment later, Holly appeared, closing the basement door behind her. "I was just putting the finishing touches on your father's birthday present," she replied. "You got it?"

Blake gestured to the counter. "Right over there," she says. While Holly looked at the sheet cake in its white bakery box, Blake went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of soda. "You want one?"

"Yes, thank you," Holly replied. "And thank you for picking up the cake."

"Not a problem," Blake said, handing Holly her soda. "It turned out great! I wasn't sure the bakery would be able to pull off your idea, but they did."

"Yes, they did," Holly said, pleased. She looked at the cake once more before taking a drink of her soda.

"Okay, so we're all still getting together here for dinner and the cake before Ross and I leave you and Dad alone for your private celebration, right?" Blake asked.

"Right," Holly confirmed. "And knowing your father, we'll be doing presents first, then cake, and then dinner." Mother and daughter shared a smirk then, thinking of the man they both loved and knowing that's exactly how the evening would proceed.

"Well, it is his day," Blake pointed out. "You know, as far back as I can remember, this is the first time we've all been together for Daddy's birthday."

"It is," Holly agreed. She took another drink of her soda, then asked, "Could you do me one more favor?"

"Name it," Blake said.

"I got the feeling this morning that your father is going to cut out of work early this afternoon. Stick with him for me, would you? Especially keep him out of the basement, and out of my closet," Holly said.

Blake looked at her mother with a mix of amusement and revulsion. "Keep Dad out of your closet? What kind of kinky stuff are you two into these days?" she asked. "No, never mind. I don't think I want to know."

Holly pinned Blake with a look. "I have a new dress for tonight, and I don't want him to see it until I'm wearing it," she said. The amusement and the revulsion were both gone from Blake's face now, and she was just smiling happily at Holly. "What?" Holly asked.

"You guys have been married for almost four months," Blake said, her smile growing wider. "It's Daddy's birthday, and you've got this big romantic evening planned, with that big surprise in the basement that's going to completely blow him away. You're happy. You're happy **together**. For so long, I didn't think I'd see the day. It's just… We're finally a family, Mom. Even Ross no longer thinks your marriage falls under the category of 'unexplained phenomena.' Just the other night, he actually said that he'll never understand you and Dad, but you're obviously right for each other."

"Coming from Ross, that's high praise indeed," Holly mused.

"I know Dad and Ross will never be best friends, but still, we're all doing so well!" Blake said enthusiastically. "We're experiencing sustained contentment. Us!" She laughed. "I don't think I'll ever stop being amazed about that."

"You know something? Neither will I," Holly said, returning Blake's smile. She looked at her watch then. "Oh, I'm running late. I have to get back. Stick the cake in the fridge for me, and remember…"

"Keep Daddy out of the basement, and don't let him go through your clothes," Blake said. "What time will you be home?"

"I'm leaving at 5:00 sharp," Holly said as she paused at the front door and looked at Blake. "Thanks for all your help, honey." She blew Blake a kiss from the door.

Blake blew a kiss back to Holly. "See you tonight!" she called as Holly left. Then she put her father's birthday cake in the refrigerator, locked the house, and she too returned to work.

_April 10, 1995, 4:47 PM—Roger and Holly's House_

"Dad, you're like a kid on Christmas Eve!" Blake exclaimed with fond exasperation. She and Roger were sitting side by side on Roger and Holly's couch, waiting for Ross and Holly to arrive for the family celebration of Roger's birthday.

"Come on, Chrissy. You know what's in the basement, don't you? Just one little hint is all I'm asking for," Roger wheedled.

"Absolutely not!" Blake exclaimed firmly. "I have strict instructions from Mom not to let you in the basement, and I know her well enough to know that she would have my head if I gave you even the **tiniest** clue about what's down there, so you're just gonna have to wait."

"Bossy and demanding," Roger grumbled. "I am surrounded by bossy and demanding women."

"You love it," Blake said with a smile.

"I love you, and I love your mother," Roger replied. "Even if you won't give me any hints about the birthday present waiting for me in the basement."

"Look on the bright side," Blake said, putting her arm around his shoulders. "It's almost 5:00. Mom should be getting ready to leave the office, and then she'll be here, and then you'll know, because of course you're going to insist on seeing what's in the basement before we have dinner and cut the cake."

"Of course," Roger replied with a smirk. The doorbell rang then.

"I got it," Blake said, rising from the couch to go to the door. It was Ross. She greeted him with a kiss hello while Roger checked his watch: 4:55. It wouldn't be much longer before Holly would be headed home to him and, for the first time he could remember, he would be celebrating his birthday with her and Chrissy both. He sat back on the couch, trying not to fidget as Chrissy and Ross sat down in the chair, Chrissy on Ross's lap, to wait with him for Holly to get home so the evening could begin.

_April 10, 1995, 5:00 PM—WSPR_

Holly was rushing out the door and collided with AJ Chamberlain. "I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, hunkering down to help him pick up the papers he had dropped when they bumped into each other.

"It was totally my fault, Mrs. Lindsey-Thorpe," AJ replied. "Since you were leaving and I was entering, you had the right of way." He accepted the papers she had picked up from her and added them to those he had gathered.

"And because I'm the boss?" Holly asked knowingly, her eyes dancing.

"Well, yes, that too," AJ admitted, also smiling. "You're in a hurry."

"It's my husband's birthday. We have plans tonight," Holly said. "I'll see you tomorrow, AJ."

"Good night!" AJ called after her. Then he went straight to his desk to start writing his copy for the 6:00 news about who the White Sox were likely to sign as free agents in the next couple of weeks, before the strike-shortened Major League Baseball season finally began.

Holly had just unlocked her car door and was about to get in when she felt someone grab her from behind, with an arm across her throat in an iron grip. She instantly fought back, struggling to break the grip, but it wasn't even five seconds after she was grabbed that the person clapped a handkerchief over her nose and mouth, forcing her to inhale the chloroform with which the handkerchief was soaked. She continued struggling until the chloroform took effect, endless seconds more, and then she went limp, losing consciousness, her purse and keys slipping to the pavement.

The attacker then dragged Holly away, laying her out on the floor of the back seat of the getaway car and throwing a blanket over her before driving sedately out of the WSPR parking lot, unnoticed by anyone.

_April 10, 1995, 5:28 PM—Roger and Holly's House and WSPR concurrently_

It was almost 5:30 and Holly hadn't arrived home yet. Roger was standing at the front door, anxiously watching for her car to pull into the driveway. Ross had suggested "Maybe she got hung up at work and can't break away from whatever it is she's doing to call" four times in the last fifteen minutes.

Unable to stand it any longer, Blake picked up the phone and punched in her mother's office number. After five rings, the call automatically transferred from Holly's office out to the bullpen area. Another four rings later, someone answered, "WSPR, Sports Department."

"This is Blake Marler," Blake said. "Is Holly Lindsey-Thorpe there?"

"I know for a fact she left at 5 on the dot," replied AJ Chamberlain, who had answered the phone. "We literally ran into each other when I was on my way back in and she was on her way out. She said something about it being her husband's birthday tonight, so she was in a hurry to leave."

A knot of fear uncurled in Blake's stomach. Turning her back so neither Roger nor Ross could see her (not that Roger was looking, since his eyes were still glued to the driveway), she asked, "Could you check the parking lot? Maybe she had car trouble, and she's waiting out there for a tow truck."

It dawned on AJ then that this was the boss's daughter; both of the bosses' daughter, since Roger Thorpe owned the other half of the station, and as he said, "Okay, yeah, I'll do that. Hold on for a minute," and put Blake on hold, he realized that Roger was the husband whose birthday Holly was rushing off to celebrate.

Since he was expecting a call from a source at any moment about a possible White Sox free agent signing that would officially take place tomorrow, AJ grabbed his new cellular phone (the thing was unwieldy, since it resembled a brick in shape and size, but it was more convenient than always looking for a pay phone, and if the manufacturers ever figured out a way to make them smaller, AJ knew they'd catch on with everybody) and then trekked to the parking lot. As he walked outside and headed in the direction of the reserved parking spaces (one each for the station manager—Holly—the two news anchors, the head sportscaster, and the head meteorologist), he reflected that it was a nice evening. Spring wasn't in full bloom yet, but it was about 65 degrees and not yet completely dark, so he half-expected to find Holly waiting for a tow truck, like her daughter had suggested. It was certainly plausible.

What he did not expect was to find Holly's car still in her parking space, with the driver's side door wide open, and when AJ got close enough, he saw what had to be her purse and keys on the ground by the door. He whipped his head around in every direction, but he was the only person on the lot.

With a muttered curse, he fumbled his cellular phone from its holster attached to his belt and hurriedly dialed a number. "Springfield PD, Officer Spaulding," said the voice that answered.

"Faith!" he exclaimed, relieved that he had gotten his good friend.

"AJ? What's wrong?" she asked, instantly on the alert.

"I'm at work, and Holly left at 5:00 on the dot because it's her husband's birthday and she was in a hurry to get home because they had plans," AJ rambled. "But she didn't make it home. Blake Marler just called looking for her mother, and I've got her on hold inside. I'm in the parking lot, because she asked me to look and see if maybe Holly was out here waiting for a tow truck or something, but Faith… Holly's car is here, and the driver's side door is open, and her purse and keys are on the ground by the door, but there's no sign of her anywhere. I've got a bad feeling about this. How the hell am I going to tell Blake? And worse, think about how Roger Thorpe is going to react when he finds out that his wife's car and purse and keys are still here, and his wife isn't?"

Faith swore pungently. "Stay by the car, AJ. Don't let anyone come near it, don't touch anything, don't let anybody else touch anything. I'm on my way, and I'm bringing a forensics team."

"I'll wait right here," AJ promised. "But Faith… You know Roger Thorpe is going to take this very badly. And Blake won't be much better."

"I know," Faith sighed. "Sit tight, and don't let anybody get near that crime scene. We'll be there in five minutes." She hung up, grabbed Cutter and the forensics team, and they sped to WSPR.

_April 10, 1995, 5:43 PM—Roger and Holly's House_

"Who are you talking to?" Ross asked, noticing Blake's darkening expression.

"No one," Blake fumed quietly, glancing over her shoulder to see her father still standing at the front door, staring at the driveway. "Whoever it was that answered put me on hold while they went to see if Mom's car is still in the lot, and they haven't come back to the phone yet."

Ross was starting to get worried himself; this being Roger's birthday, Holly would have absolutely called if she were going to be late, no matter what problem she might have had to stay at work to fix. And both Blake and Roger knew something was wrong because Holly should have been here half an hour ago at the latest.

Ross's attention snapped back to Blake when he heard her say, "Hello? Yes, I'm still here." He jumped to his feet and hurried to her side when he saw the horrified look on her face. "Are you sure?" she asked anxiously. "I understand…We're on our way." She slammed the phone down, and looked at Ross, who was fighting down his own panic at the fearful look on her face.

She clutched at the lapels of his jacket, and Ross could feel her fingers trembling. "Blake, what is it?" he asked, very alarmed now.

Hearing Ross's tone of voice, Roger finally turned away from the window, and the look on Blake's face made his blood run cold. He rushed from the front door to where Blake was standing, her shaking hands clutching Ross's jacket, her face gone pale as a sheet. "Chrissy?" he asked anxiously.

Blake swallowed hard. "That was AJ Chamberlain," she said, her voice trembling as much as her hands. "Mom's car is still in the lot, but she's not there…and he said he found her purse and keys on the ground by the open driver's side door. He called the police, they're there now. But…" She swallowed hard again and looked from her husband to her father. "But there's no sign of Mom anywhere. They've scoured the building from top to bottom, and she's just…she's not there."

Roger was out the door like a shot, and he was already speeding around the corner by the time Blake and Ross were pulling out of the driveway to follow him to WSPR.

_**I'm guessing you all want to throw things at me right now. :ducking rotten cyber-tomatoes: I will update again as soon as I can, within the next couple of days. This starts the angsty, rocky portion of the story, but I have a definite plan, so buckle up and trust me.**_


	8. Away From the Sun

_**Starting in this chapter, both Roger and Holly will be having memories. Some of them came from the actual show, some of them came from me (either from earlier stories or missing scenes that I ultimately decided not to include in earlier stories), but they will all be denoted by {{ }}. Thanks to bandstandmike, jezzfanatic, Blossees, classicGL, kerster22 and bluerose8508 over at YouTube for the show scenes quoted from here on. **_

April 10, 1995, 5:56 PM—WSPR, Parking Lot

Roger screeched to a halt just past the entrance to the WSPR parking lot and sprinted over to where the squad cars were parked, with their lights flashing red and blue. He saw Detective Cutter and Faith Spaulding talking to AJ Chamberlain, and three men in blue windbreakers that said FORENSICS on the back crawling over, under, and inside of Holly's car. "What's going on? Where's Holly?" he demanded.

Detective Cutter looked at Roger. "When is the last time you saw your wife, Mr. Thorpe?" he asked.

"This morning," Roger replied. "A little after 8:30, when we said goodbye before we both left for work."

Faith thought to herself that of all the residents of Springfield, the worst person to kidnap was Holly, because that meant in addition to searching for her, the department would also be forced to deal with the very frightened, very angry Roger Thorpe, which, to Faith's mind, was akin to having to cut the wires on unexploded bomb with no training: there was a very small chance no damage would occur, but the odds were much greater that something would blow up and cause some kind of damage. And what little evidence they already had clearly showed that Holly had definitely been kidnapped.

Still, Faith had to admit that somebody kidnapping Holly wasn't really a surprise, considering Roger's past, and all the enemies the man surely had.

Blake and Ross came rushing up then. "Detective, Officer, what have you found?" Ross asked, addressing Cutter and Faith.

"AJ Chamberlain found Mrs. Thorpe's purse and keys on the ground by the open driver's side door of her car," Cutter began.

"We know that already!" Blake exclaimed impatiently. "What else? Do you have any leads? Any idea at all who did this?"

"Start with the Spauldings and the Lewises," Roger demanded.

That got Faith's dander up. "You think someone in my family kidnapped Holly?" she asked in a dangerously low tone of voice.

"Your entire family hates me. I wouldn't put it past any of them, except maybe you," Roger said, "and I just don't want your family dismissed out of hand as suspects because you happen to be one of Springfield's finest!"

"You planning to accuse any of the Bauers while you're at it?" Faith asked sarcastically. "You and my Uncle Ed have hated each other's guts for almost 25 years now."

Roger disregarded Faith's sarcasm. "As much as Ed will always hate me, Holly is his friend. And Maureen is my friend. So no, the Bauers had nothing to do with this, I do know that much," he retorted. "However, I will believe no such claims about the Spauldings or the Lewises until they are definitively proven, and that should give you enough of a starting point, considering how many suspects you need to interview from those two families. I suggest you start with Alexandra Spaulding and Josh Lewis."

"So now you're accusing Alexandra?" Faith demanded.

"You have a short memory, Officer," Roger said mockingly. "Have you already forgotten the Valentine's Day Massacre Alex perpetrated at Company? I can guarantee you that even if you have, Mindy and Dylan Lewis, Bridget Reardon, and Fletcher Reade haven't."

Before Faith could reply to that, Cutter said, "Officer Spaulding, a word?" in a way that let her know it was a command, not a suggestion. Faith glowered at Roger before following Cutter several yards away. "You're off the case," Cutter said without preamble.

"What?" Faith asked incredulously.

"You heard me," Cutter replied. "With the exceptions of his wife and daughter, and your great-aunt and second cousin, the whole rest of this town thinks that Roger Thorpe is a miserable S.O.B., including me. But this is a kidnapping case involving his wife, and unfortunately, he's right: the Spauldings and the Lewises all hate him, albeit with good reason, so we have to treat all of them as suspects, and if one of them did kidnap Holly and is holding her against her will somewhere, they crossed a line, because that is most emphatically against the law, no matter how much they may feel Roger Thorpe deserves this."

"Cutter, come on! You seriously think somebody in my family is involved in this?" Faith asked.

"I seriously think we have to question them, and I seriously think that you need to **not** be involved, because Thorpe will be breathing down the department's neck until his wife is found, and the last thing we need is him screaming about corruption or a cover up or preferential treatment of suspects because you're one of the investigating officers," Cutter explained.

"You know me better than that, Cutter," Faith said angrily.

"I also know Thorpe. He's the one I don't trust, Spaulding, not you. For the good of your career, the department, and this investigation, you have to stay out of it," Cutter said. Faith was so angry, she couldn't speak. Cutter warned her, "I mean it, Spaulding. Do **not** get involved. Do **not** question anyone, even unofficially. Simply. Do. Not. Get. Involved." He paused, considering, then said, "At least, do not get involved with the Spaulding or Lewis angles of the investigation. Leave those to the rest of us, and you start digging around into Thorpe's other enemies. The man is former CIA. You know how many enemies those guys rack up. Add in Thorpe's methods and sparkling personality, and you can probably at least triple the usual amount."

Faith hated that she had to be restricted on this investigation, since Blake was a friend (and still a relative through Ross's relation to Phillip), and since she liked Holly. But she knew that Cutter was right. Roger Thorpe would be all over the department until Holly was found, and being Ed Bauer's great-niece and Alan Spaulding's daughter made her an ideal target, given the history between both Roger and Ed, and Roger and Alan. "All right," Faith finally agreed.

Cutter gave a brisk nod, and he and Faith returned to where AJ had been telling Roger, Blake and Ross everything he knew, which wasn't much. "I'm very sorry this happened," AJ concluded.

"Thank you, AJ," Ross said, having taken it upon himself to be the family spokesman, since Roger looked like he was about to physically attack someone at any minute, and Blake had fallen into a shell-shocked silence, which she broke to cry out and clap her hand to her mouth when one of the forensics men walked by carrying Holly's purse in a clear plastic evidence bag. Roger's face twisted with pain when he realized what it was.

When Roger saw Faith and Cutter returning, he said, "I'll give you 24 hours to find my wife. If you are unsuccessful, then I take over."

"Roger," Ross piped up, "is there any point to my telling you to let the police do their job?"

Roger nailed Ross with a fierce look. "If Chrissy was missing, would you just be sitting on your hands and counting on the police to find her all by themselves?" he wanted to know.

Roger had him there. The thought of Blake being taken like Holly had been was too traumatic for Ross to even consider, but he knew that he would be personally involved in any search for his missing wife. For once, Ross understood exactly where Roger was coming from. "No," Ross admitted quietly, "I wouldn't. But I wouldn't be announcing my intention to supersede an active police investigation and most likely flout the law in the process if the police don't act quickly enough to your way of thinking."

Roger ignored Ross to glare at Cutter and Faith. "I want Alexandra Spaulding and Josh Lewis questioned first," he said sternly.

"We will be interviewing suspects for the rest of the evening and probably all day tomorrow as well, Mr. Thorpe," Cutter replied, "and going over the evidence."

Blake finally spoke again. She got right up in Cutter's face and said, "I'm going to be such a pain in the department's ass until my mother is found that you're going to look back happily on the pain in the ass you thought I was when my father was missing after he was shot!"

"Duly noticed, Mrs. Marler," Cutter drawled.

"We're ready to head back to the station and start processing the evidence," one of the forensics guys said then as he approached them.

"All right," Cutter replied. He looked at Roger, Blake and Ross. "There's nothing more you can do here. Go home. We'll be in touch."

"When?" Blake demanded.

"When we have something to report," Cutter replied.

"Blake," Faith said then. Blake looked to her former sister-in-law and still friend. "We'll find Holly."

"If you don't, I will, no matter what it takes," Roger warned. Then he turned on his heel and headed for his car.

As Cutter and Faith went to talk to AJ one last time, Blake turned to Ross and said, "I think I'll drive Daddy home."

"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" Ross asked, concerned.

"Better me than him," Blake replied, and Ross followed her gaze to Roger, looking like all the wind had been knocked out of him, which, Ross reflected, it had. "Meet us there?"

"I'll be right behind you," Ross promised.

Blake hugged Ross quickly, then hurried to Roger's car, where he was standing by the driver's door and staring morosely at the forensics team packing up their supplies to return to the police station and begin processing whatever evidence they had collected, and held out her hand for his keys. "I'm gonna drive you home, Dad. Ross will follow us," she said. Roger wordlessly dropped his keys in her hand, rounded the car to the passenger side, and got in. With a worried sigh, Blake settled herself in the driver's seat, cranked the car, and pulled out of the lot, Ross following behind.

Blake and Roger didn't speak at all on the drive back to Roger and Holly's house. Blake forced herself to concentrate on the road. She was willing to give the police some time to act, but she agreed with her father that they had better get moving. She was deeply terrified for her mother, and deeply worried about her father, who was uncharacteristically silent. She had expected him to be loudly and bitterly complaining about the uselessness of the police, Faith Spaulding in particular, and ranting and raving about making whoever had kidnapped her mother pay dearly for what they had done, but instead, he was staring unseeingly out the passenger window at the dark night, and he hadn't said a word since they'd left WSPR.

Roger wasn't talking because he was remembering…remembering another night, years ago, when he had sat in the passenger seat of a car, only it was Holly, not Chrissy, who was driving.

It was a few months after they had all returned to Springfield, and each of them knew the others were there. He and Holly had been at the bridge, and he had made her so angry that she had pushed him into the river. But then she took him home, and he had feigned an injured foot to get her to stay, and she had, though she had protested mightily…

**_{{"You pushed me off a bridge!"_**

**_ "You got yourself up onto that railing, Roger! _**_I only have so much control__."_

_"Look, I am soaking wet, I can't walk…Please, give me a hand."_

_"You've got a lot of nerve." Holly put down her purse, and as she took off her coat, she asked, "Where's the bedroom?" Roger looked at her interestedly then. "I'm going to get you a towel, and a robe," she continued. _

_"Ah. Thank you. Right around there." He pointed her in the direction of the bedroom. As she started to walk away, he called her name. "Holly?" She stopped and turned around to look at him. "You must be cold, too. I have some armagnac, vintage."_

_"Don't push your luck, Roger. And don't try and charm me. You're lucky I'm in the same room with you."_

_"Right. Okay." She went to get the towel and the robe then, and Roger went and sat down on the couch. "It's working," he said aloud to himself. He pumped his fists in a small show of triumph. "It's working." Then he settled back to wait for Holly to return._

_After bringing him a towel and his robe, she had gone to the kitchen to get him something to eat. Roger had changed into his robe and was drying his hair with the towel by the time Holly returned carrying a tray and saying, "You realize you have nothing in that kitchen but herb tea and tofu."_

_"And armagnac," he added._

_"You don't even have a bouillon cube," she said as she set the tray on the desk._

_"Bouillon? You want bouillon?" he asked._

_"I thought you'd feel better if you had something warm in you."_

_"Oh. Well, thank you for your concern."_

_"Well, too bad you don't have the bouillon. My concern has run out." She started to go for her coat, so he let out a yelp of pain, playing up his fake foot injury. "Now what?" she asked irritably. _

_"Nothing. Nothing. I'll be all right. Just, ah…"_

_"What?"_

_"Could you just help me to the sofa?"_

_She rolled her eyes, but she walked across the room to help him to the sofa. He leaned on her and faked a limp to keep up the pretense of injury.  
_

_After she had him settled on the couch, she said, "I hope you're gonna call the doctor about this. Or are you just gonna chant your mantra?"_

_"Oh, I'm sure I'll be better in the morning. Look, whatever happens, I don't want you to feel guilty, okay?"_

_"Guilty? You don't want __**me **__to feel guilty?"_

_"Look, I understand. It was just an impulse."_

_"Roger, you jumped up on the railing of that bridge and started spouting off about my inner feelings. It was __**not**__ an impulse to push you off, it was a thrill!"_

_"Right."_

_"I should have left you on the riverbank."_

_"But you didn't."_

_"Don't read any meaning into that. I'm just not the sort of callous jerk you are."_

_"Holly, I know how you feel."_

_"You couldn't possibly know how I feel."_

_"Could you possibly just…just feel my head? I feel like I have a fever." She just looked at him. "Okay, okay, but could you just stay one… Please just stay just a little bit?" She had started to walk away then. "Where are you going?"_

_She turned back to look at him. "I'm going to get you a blanket. You do have them, don't you? Or is this too Western for your aesthetics? You probably sleep on a solar-heated futon with aloe fronds to hold in your natural warmth."_

_"In the closet, there is a real, old-fashioned blanket, and like I keep saying, thank you."_

_"You notice I haven't said 'you're welcome.'"_

_"I noticed, but it doesn't bother me."_

_"Fine. Grand. Just don't go into shock or anything. Florence Nightingale I'm not."_

_She had left to get the blanket then. When she was out of earshot, he had looked pleased as he uttered two words, thinking aloud: "She cares."__**}}**_

Yes, she **had** cared that night. Okay, he had tricked her into thinking he was hurt, but when she thought his foot was sprained, she had stayed when he asked. She helped him to the sofa, she took care of him after a fashion, bringing him hot tea, which had been her idea entirely, and his robe and a towel and the blanket, which was also her idea entirely.

Of course, she had also given him hell when she realized he had faked the foot injury to keep her there as long as possible, and then she had stormed out. But she **had** cared that night, though he had known at the time that she wouldn't admit it-not to him, and certainly not to herself. He had also known that she hadn't wanted to care; not then. But she had cared.

They had been through so much and come so far since that night. They were finally getting it right. They finally had the life they had always dreamed they could have.

Now someone had taken her, ripped her away from him with malice and without warning.

And he was certain that either Alexandra Spaulding or Josh Lewis was involved.

Alex had hated him for years, and she hadn't been playing with a full deck for some time now, as evinced by her behavior on Valentine's Day. Josh Lewis was a hothead who had always blamed Roger for his brother Billy going to jail. When Roger had named Billy as his shooter, Josh had burst into Roger and Holly's house one night, hauled Roger off the couch, where he and Holly had been sitting and talking, and started screaming at him, shaking him, and threatening him. Holly had tried and failed to separate them, and it took Tangie literally running in and yelling at Josh to stop (they'd been dating then) to get him to let Roger go.

He would give the boys and girls in blue one chance to figure out who was responsible and find Holly, but if she wasn't back in his arms in 24 hours, all bets were off. He doubted the police would go out of their way to help him anyway, especially Faith Spaulding and Patrick Cutter, since they, like nearly all the rest of the town, still thought he was the scum of the earth, and also thought little of Holly for marrying him.

Twelve hours ago, he'd been the happiest man alive.

Now he was free falling into an abyss of horror the likes of which he'd never known.

He knew Chrissy was scared too. He had to try to be strong for her, at least until he could turn her over to Ross. He never thought he would be grateful that Ross Marler was his daughter's husband, but he knew that Ross would comfort Chrissy now, better than Roger could since he felt like he was emotionally hemorrhaging, like he'd been suddenly and savagely cut open and all of the warmth and joy and peace and security—things he'd never believed he was capable of feeling until Holly had let him back into her life and heart in a way he would be grateful for every day for the rest of his life—were seeping out of him. In his current emotional state, he didn't think he could be much comfort to his daughter, and he hated that she had to worry about him on top of worrying for Holly, but Holly's disappearance consumed him, just swallowed him whole. What really surprised Roger, though, was that not only was he grateful Ross would be there for Chrissy, but he actually trusted Ross to comfort her. If he wasn't so frantic over Holly's kidnapping, he would be absolutely astonished at the gratitude and trust he was feeling toward Ross for being there for Chrissy now.

Roger had never been more terrified in his life. And unlike Chrissy, he couldn't cling to the one person that could make his fears disappear, because she was missing. He had no idea where she was right now, or what she was going through.

And this made him angry. This wasn't how this night was supposed to go, damn it! Holly was supposed to have come home hours ago. She would have been even more fondly exasperated with his impatience about the mysterious birthday present in the basement than Chrissy had been, and then she would have taken him downstairs to show him whatever it was. They were supposed to have dinner and cake with Chrissy and Ross, and after that, when they were alone, he had wanted to slow-dance with her by candlelight in the living room, perhaps play the piano for her like he had on Valentine's Day, or lay his head in her lap as she read aloud to him, something by one of the Brownings…and that was after the plans she had alluded to that morning. And then they would have gone to bed, lying in each other's arms in the dark, talking, kissing, maybe ending the day the way they had started it by making love again, and then falling asleep curled up together.

Instead Holly was gone, taken by he didn't yet know who, stashed he didn't yet know where, in who knew what kind of condition. And that made him feel helpless. If he knew where she was, he would go and get her and bring her home.

But he didn't know. And it was all of the not knowing about this situation that made him feel a pain he had never felt before, a pain that sliced so sharply and so deeply into his soul, comprised of the helplessness at the knowledge that he personally could do nothing to immediately rescue Holly, the terror for her physical safety, the anger that she had been taken from him, and the intensely profound fear that he would never see her face, never hear her voice or her laugh, never hold her in his arms or feel her touch upon his face or wake up beside her or kiss her or make love with her again.

He was jerked from his dark thoughts by the stopping of the car. "We're home, Dad," Blake said quietly.

Roger looked at the house for a minute, knowing he'd be walking into a million memories, and was hit with one out of the blue that he hadn't thought of in over a year...

**{{**_"What are you gonna do?"_

_ "I don't know. What would __**you **__do?"_

_ "Get mad as hell, and then get a lawyer!" He smiled at her. She was so firm, so certain when she said that, the fire in her eyes letting him know that she wouldn't only feel that way if this was happening to her, but that she was truly livid on his behalf. She continued, "I mean, I know the Lewises love this kid, but Hart is the father, and he's had no say-so in this whole thing at all! It's not fair!"_

_ He just looked at her, still smiling. "Do you know what it's like to be able to have you to come home to? I mean, somebody who not only gives a damn what I'm feeling, but somehow manages to feel it yourself?" He took her hand in his and held it. "Thank you," he whispered. He kissed her hand before saying it again softly: "Thank you."_

_ She just smiled back at him in reply._**}}**

He wasn't even in the house yet, and the floodgates were wide open, memories of Holly crowding across his mind like a videotape being played in fast-forward mode. Once he was actually in the house, the site of so many moments they had spent together...

This was not what Holly had had in mind when she had told him this morning that she wanted this birthday to be the most memorable one he'd ever had.

Blake put a hand on his arm then, and he turned to look at her. "Ross and I are staying with you for the evening," she said in a tone that brooked no arguments. "We'll go home when it's time for bed...unless you want us to stay with you."

Roger shook his head. "No. You don't have to spend the night."

"Well, we **are** spending the evening with you," Blake said firmly. Ross pulled in behind her then. "Let's go inside," she said.

Roger got out of the car and followed Blake inside, reflecting that this day that had started out to be one of the best of his life was now the worst day he'd ever known…and considering the supremely awful days he had had in his life before now, that was saying something.

_April 10, 1995, 9:04 PM—Wine Cellar_

Pain. The first thing she was aware of was pinpricks of pain in her head. The pain was dull but not throbbing, so at least it wasn't a migraine. She struggled to open her eyes, and once they were, she looked around, disoriented. She tried to bring her hand up to rub her eyes, and that was when she discovered that her hands were bound behind her back. A look at her feet revealed that they were also bound at the ankles.

She was sitting on a concrete floor with her wrists bound behind her and her ankles bound in front of her, leaning against a wall.

The last thing she remembered was someone grabbing her from behind when she was getting in her car at the station to go home.

Home. Roger, Blake and Ross were waiting for her there. It was Roger's birthday.

Where was she?

She forced herself to focus as she took in her surroundings, shaking off the mental cobwebs. It looked like she was in a wine cellar, if the few scattered bottles of wine on the shelves were anything to go by. The only light was from a single bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and the place was covered in dust and cobwebs and had a dank, musty smell to it. It must be a wine cellar that hadn't been used for a while, she thought.

Then she heard a familiar voice, dripping with acid, say, "Well, it's about time you woke up."

"Alexandra?" Holly asked. What in the world was going on?

Alexandra stepped into the light, and the second Holly got a look at her eyes, she knew something was very, very wrong.

Holly was a great fan of classic literature and poetry; she always had been. The look in Alex's eyes called to mind Lady MacBeth plotting King Duncan's murder, and Holly involuntarily backed against the wall she was leaning against, only to find she was leaning as far back against it as was possible.

"Not quite the birthday surprise you had in mind for dear Roger, was it?" Alex sneered. "He won't enjoy this one…but then, he's not supposed to."

"Alexandra, you did this?" Holly asked, nodding at her bound feet, and also meaning her tied hands. "Why?"

Alex laughed manically. "Revenge!" she cried triumphantly. "The perfect revenge for all the misery Roger has caused me all these years!" She stared at Holly. "I admit, I can't figure out when or why you became more important to him than money and power, but I **know** that you are. Somehow, you became the one and only thing that means everything to him. That's why it had to be you. You, Holly, are the means to an end. He always loved you, he always wanted you. He finally has you. And that's why he's going to lose you."

Alexandra was peering critically at Holly now, seeming to expect her to show fear. Holly fought to keep her composure. She wasn't disoriented now, and her headache was easing somewhat. "So, what, you kidnapped me?" Holly asked, fighting to keep her voice even.

"'Kidnap' is such an ugly word," Alex replied airily. "I prefer 'commandeer.'"

"All right, you commandeered me to get back at Roger," Holly amended. "What happens now?"

"He suffers," Alex said succinctly. "He suffers the kind of torment he happily inflicted on me for years. He constantly managed to worm his way out of every attempt at punishment that was leveled at him. This time, he **can't** worm his way out. This time, he's going to take his punishment and he's going to suffer, and suffer mightily!"

"So you're just going to keep me locked up here?" Holly asked. "That's unlawful imprisonment, Alex, on top of the…" She paused for a few seconds before substituting Alex's preferred word for kidnapping. "...commandeering."

"Call the police," Alex said. "Oh, wait, you can't! You're literally tied up, and there's no phone down here anyway!" she exclaimed gleefully. Her smile turned menacing, feral. "You're trapped, Holly. There's no way out of here for you." She regarded Holly appraisingly then. "I seem to recall you have a fondness for classic literature. Tell me, have you ever read any Edgar Allen Poe?"

"Don't tell me a pendulum is going to slowly make its way down from the ceiling towards me?" Holly said.

Alex laughed that manic laugh again. "I'm not that violent. I'm referring to _The Cask of Amontillado_. Granted, Luchesi didn't have to resort to chloroform to get Fortunato to the wine cellar, but Roger is the Fortunato in our little scenario, not you. You are merely the instrument of his torture. Sealing you up in here is a far worse punishment for Roger than sealing him up in here would be."

Holly remembered the story then: Luchesi luring the man he despised, Fortunato, to a wine cellar with the promise of a special wine, tricking him inside to look for it, and then sealing off the entrance with a brick wall, leaving him there to die.

She felt goosebumps pop out all over her skin as she realized that Alexandra had just announced her intention to do the same thing to her as in that story!

"You can't seriously believe my disappearance will go unnoticed!" Holly exclaimed.

"On the contrary, I'm counting on your disappearance being noticed!" Alex retorted. "But I'm also counting on the fact that your darling husband won't find you until it's too late." She shook her head sadly. "I tried to warn you, Holly. The day you came to my house, asking me to drop the charges against Roger, do you remember that? I told you then that I would neither forgive nor forget what Roger had done to me and my family, all the pain and humiliation he caused me. Even then, you were too blinded by your love for him to see that he deserved retribution. He deserves it even more now, bailing out on me the way he did the one time I **needed** his help."

"He finally walked away from everything even **remotely** connected to Spaulding Enterprises!" Holly shouted. She knew she was treading on shaky ground right now, but she would not give Alex the satisfaction of showing her the fear she expected. "You can't have it both ways, Alex! You wanted Roger out of your company. It took years, but he got out! He gave it up! He doesn't want it anymore! And now you stand there and tell me that you're angry at him because he wouldn't help you keep Alan out of the CEO's chair?"

"All actions have consequences, Holly," Alexandra said icily. "This is the consequence of **all** of Roger's actions against me, my family, and my father's company. The day of reckoning has finally arrived. And the most delicious part of the whole thing is that he actually knows true happiness for the first time in his life, and I get to be the one to blow his little world apart, the way he has blown my world apart time and time again. And I owe it all to you. This wouldn't be happening if you still had your head on straight about Roger."

_I'm not the one who doesn't have my head on straight right now, you are,_ Holly thought to herself.

Alex went on, "I should really thank you for making it so much easier than I originally thought it would be. But ever since you returned to WSPR, you've become a creature of routine and habit. Out the door nearly every night by 6 and home to your loving husband. Of course, you left earlier tonight, but that's because it's his birthday. I had forgotten that, actually, until I overheard you two on the country club patio the night of the hospital fundraiser. And there was just something so appealing to my sense of poetic justice about doing this tonight of all nights, so it only required a small adjustment on my part, just getting there to lie in wait a bit earlier than I would have under normal circumstances."

"You were spying on us?" Holly asked, but as far off the rails as Alexandra had obviously gone, she was only surprised at the initial admission.

"Well, it's not like I enjoyed it!" Alex retorted. "Everyone thought you and Roger were sick before. Personally, I think the fact that you two are married to each other again and so disgustingly happy about it is the sickest thing of all."

Holly chewed the insides of her cheeks to keep herself from defending Roger and their marriage, not wanting to poke an insane tiger.

"I don't know **what** made you change your mind about him," Alexandra continued, "but I know **when** you started to change your mind about him: Acapulco. You made me look and feel a perfect fool then, Holly. I was so worried for your safety and well being that I confessed the whole plan to Ross and dragged him down there to help me rescue you from Roger, and what do Ross and I find when we finally track you down? You and Roger, dancing around the hotel room to the mariachi music coming from outside like you didn't have a care in the world. Make no mistake: this is about Roger, but it **is** nice to tie up that particular loose end and finally let you know how I felt about you failing to hold up your end of the bargain there."

Holly looked at Alex defiantly. "It was entrapment, Alex. I'm glad I didn't go through with it," she said. _And even more glad about what actually __**did**__ happen_, she added silently.

"And that is why you ended up here," Alex told her with a disdainful glare. "You forgot that when you lie down with pigs, you get up filthy." She started for the door, but then stopped and turned back to look at Holly again. "Don't be alarmed by all the noise you'll be hearing. The workmen are coming bright and early in the morning to start sealing off this wine cellar. And I wouldn't suggest screaming for help, because the place is soundproof. It doubled as a bomb shelter in the 1950s." She stared intently at Holly again. "Roger doesn't deserve to be so disgustingly happy with you. He deserves utter and abject misery, and all the torments of Hell. This is as close as I could manage to get him to that, but it'll do. It'll do."

Holly watched in horror as Alex walked up the stairs and out the door, which she closed and locked behind her, leaving Holly alone in this unused wine cellar that was going to be sealed off with a brick wall starting in a matter of hours.

Alex had gone 'round the bend. She was totally unhinged.

"No," Holly said aloud. "Just…no. Absolutely not. Roger and I have survived a lot worse than you, Alexandra, and if you think you can just end us…that we would ever **let you **just end us like this, you've got another think coming."

And with that resolute declaration, Holly began working at getting her hands free from the ropes Alexandra had used to bind them.


	9. Trying to Make Sense of Madness

_April 10, 1995, 9:51 PM—Wine Cellar_

As Holly worked at loosening the ropes binding her wrists, she thought back on the day she had come to the mansion to ask Alexandra to drop the fraud charges against Roger. She hadn't even told Roger what she was going to do. She had just arrived at the mansion first thing in the morning, while Alex was still reading the paper in her robe, and calmly, firmly made her case in Roger's defense to the ultimately unmoved Alex…...

**_{{_**_"Well, well, this is a surprise, so early in the morning," Alex had said after Vera had let her know Holly was there and then shown Holly into the library before leaving them alone to talk. "Let's see…We didn't have an appointment, so can't be business. I'm just gonna bet it's not a social call. So that leaves…what, Holly?"_

_"I came here to ask you for a favor. I want you to drop the charges against Roger," Holly had said. Alex had offered her tea then. "No, thanks," she declined. I really don't want to take up a lot of your time."_

_"Ah. I never used to drink tea, you know, 'til recently. But I do find that it relaxes me, especially when I'm forced to deal with unpleasant subjects."_

_"Roger can't hurt you anymore, Alex. Drop the charges against him."_

_"You must be kidding, of course. After all the pain and humiliation that man has caused my family, and the blatant fraud he committed by stealing my father's company from me, and you knowing full well what he's done to me personally, you walk in here and ask me to just forget it all?"_

_"Yes. That's exactly what I'm asking you."_

_"No. Absolutely not."_

_"I know I am an unexpected advocate for Roger, but I want you to consider something."_

_"I don't even think this conversation should be dignified. I can't __**believe**__ you walked in here and you're asking me to do this."_

_"Alex, I have seen him. I know what he's going through right now."_

_"Oh, I know. I read you've spent a __**lot**__ of time with Roger lately."_

_"Well, he came to me, he was badly wounded, he was all alone, he had nobody, he needed someone to help… I helped him, yes."_

_"Forgive me, Holly, but, what, have you just forgotten everything this man has done to you? You of all people should know the man is a monster! Why are you defending him now? Why are you even aligning yourself with him?"_

_"I know he's done terrible things. I __**do**__ know that, better than anyone. But he has paid his dues."_

_"Never! Never as long as the man lives!"_

_"Alex, he lost Spaulding. He lost the company. That's certainly been squared, as it should have been. What do you want to do, twist the knife? I mean, he nearly died from a bullet wound in him! Nobody deserves to suffer that kind of violence, nobody, not even Roger! "_

_"You know, Holly, you have certainly come full circle. Don't I recall you shot the man once yourself?"_

_"If it makes you feel better to mock me, go ahead."_

_"No, I don't mean to mock you, Holly. I just don't understand why you're getting involved. Seriously, Holly, have you forgotten everything that man has done to you?"_

_"I'll never be able to forget what he's done to me. But I think he's been punished for it. He's been punished for what he did to me and for what he did to you and your family. Alex, he's lost everything. He's lost the company, he's lost his marriage, he's lost the baby. I'm not saying he deserves special favors, or that he is blameless, but he is __**not**__ a cardboard villain character. There is something in the man that can be redeemed."_

_"I don't believe that."_

_"I do. I swear it. I __**know**__ he can change. He's just got to be met halfway. He's just got to be met with kindness and forgiveness. I know this is a very tall order to ask from the people who have the biggest and the best reasons to hate him, but if you won't do it for Roger, why not do it for yourself? Believe me, I know the toll that hate takes on the one who hates. It is a malignancy on your soul. It destroys what can be the best about you. I mean, wouldn't it be a relief to wake up one morning and __**not**__ have the first thought of the day centered on the one you hate? Do it for yourself, Alex. We can move on. Forgive Roger."_

_"So you want me to stop hating and let everything go. That's ironic advice, Holly. That's why I left Springfield the last time, did you know that? I was so sick and tired of anger and hatred, resentments, being hurt, being everyone's focal point for all their hopes and fears and expectations, and I had to get out of here. And so I went to the East in my quest for some serenity. I think I found it, too. Then I came back here. Everything was so disheveled, so diminished. I lost my composure and all that peace I had looked for for so long. Every time I tried to chant my mantra, I could feel I was failing miserably because all that anger was still right there, all consolidated like some emotional Scud missile, all directed, aimed, right at Roger Thorpe. So that made Billy Lewis's bullet seem like a little pop gun to me. But you're right, Holly: hatred does consume and destroy."_

_"Let Roger go. I know, Alex. I know what you're feeling, because I've felt it too. All that protesting too much, calling it hate when really it was just my own sense of failure and disappointment that it wasn't going to work. I mean, I know going after him is about more than the business. It's about your marriage to him."_

_"What exactly are you saying?"_

_"I'm saying that I know you loved him."_

_"Get out of my house!"_

_"What?"_

_"__**Get out of my house!**__ If you think that I am __**ever**__ going to forget what you said here to me, you are absolutely wrong. I will __**never**__ forget it!"_

_"I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I didn't come here to do that."_

_"Of course not. But if you honestly came here thinking I would be kindly disposed to Roger by invoking my nightmarish union with him, Holly, you've not only lost your mind, but your self-respect too!"_

_"I was just trying to say—and badly—that punishing him isn't gonna make you feel any better."_

_"Well, that's where you're wrong, because I'm already feeling a __**whole lot**__ better just contemplating the man's bleak future."_

_"And then what? So he goes to jail, and you go on and spend the rest of your life trying to get back at people? There's no getting even, Alex! Roger is living proof of that! He has sabotaged all the good things in his life because he just didn't have the faith that he could hang onto things without manipulating the odds."_

_"Yes, and now he's paying for it, and goody."_

_"But he has paid for it already! __**That's**__ what I've been trying to tell you! He has paid for it in full, and now he just wants to change!"_

_"Roger wants to change? What, a kinder, gentler Roger Thorpe? If you've come here pedaling __**that**__ nonsense, Holly, __**nobody's**__ gonna buy that, least of all me! The man's a viper. It's in his nature to strike, and hurt. He's not gonna change, because he __**can't **__change."_

_"You're wrong. He just wants to be a man that someone can love and be proud of."_

_"You mean someone like you?"_

_"I don't know that."_

_"So you want me to spare him…forgive him… fix him, even. He'd not only be a free man, but maybe even a better man. Yeah. Maybe even finally good enough for you, Holly. You fraud! You hypocrite! How many women in this town have __**you**__ to thank for their miserable, sad histories with Roger Thorpe simply because you couldn't make up your mind… No. You tell Roger I will see him in court!"_**}}**

Alex was still determined then to press on with the lawsuit, to see Roger behind bars for taking the company while she was out of the country and Alan was still in prison, so Holly's relief that Roger was going to survive being shot by Billy Lewis, and her own realization that she loved him and wanted to be with him, were tempered by the threat of a prison sentence hanging over Roger's head. She had held back on admitting to Roger that she was ready for them to try again because she was worried that any day, Detective Cutter would come knocking at the door with a warrant for Roger's arrest, and then there would be a trial, and then he would be taken away from her again, to an 8x6 prison cell, for years…years she wanted, and was finally ready, to spend with him.

Things were really looking bleak after Alex refused Holly's request to drop the charges against Roger, but their own personal sword of Damocles still hung over them days later, not falling, but at that point, not looking like they would escape it, either…...

**{{**_"You know what I wish?" Roger asked as they sat at the breakfast table. "I wish that you and I could get on a plane right now and go to Switzerland."_

_"Okay." She gave him the ghost of a smile then. _

_"Let's go," he said._

_"Why?" she asked, though she had the very strong feeling that she had an idea of what his answer would be._

_"Why?" he repeated. "'Cause I never saw it. I was just too isolated, too inside myself. But somehow, the thought of seeing it through your eyes would be…" He trailed off. _

_"We never did do that kind of thing. Just take time and travel," she mused._

_"Holly, sometimes it feels like we never had any time at all."_

_She held his gaze for a moment, and then it all got to be too much. She got up from the table, needing to flee before her ever-growing fear of losing him to a prison cell suffocated her. _

_"What did I say?" he asked as she got up and went for her coat._

_"Nothing," she replied, willing herself to keep the lump in her throat from making tears well up in her eyes. _

_"Where are you going?" he asked as she put on her coat._

_"To the Journal. I've gotta fight my partners about how we're gonna handle the Billy Lewis arrest." Her careening emotions somewhat more under control, she turned to look at him again. _

_He too had risen from the table and was approaching her. "Please don't go," he said softly._

_The biggest part of her didn't want to; the biggest part of her wanted to forget everything else and get on that plane to Switzerland with him. But she knew, and he knew, that they couldn't really do that, no matter how much they may have wanted to. _

_"I have to," she replied. _

_"Holly," he said as he took another couple of steps toward her, "this may be, um, our last day for some time."_

_"I know." Her voice was quiet, strained._

_He closed the gap between them and took her hands in his. "Honey, you could take me to faraway places and we wouldn't have to leave the room." He cracked a smile then, for just a second, before looking at her earnestly. "Please don't go. Please." He touched her hair, and she took a step back. "What is it, are you afraid of me again?" he asked, and she knew he worried that she would answer that yes, she was. But she wasn't._

_It wasn't fear of __**him**__. It was fear of __**losing**__ him._

_"No," she assured him. "Not you. It's just…the time, it's so short. And if they're taking you away again, I just…I don't want it to be any harder for me than it is already."_

_He nodded, bowing his head, understanding, hating it as much as she did, not wanting to be ripped away from her any more than she wanted him to be ripped away from her. _

_She ran her fingertips down his jawline, and he turned his head and dropped a kiss in her palm before meeting her eyes again. "I will be back as soon as I can, okay?" she said._

_As she was leaving, he said, "Do one thing for me, okay?"_

_"What?" she asked._

_ "If you can hold off, please don't tell anybody about Peter being Hart's son. Not yet."_

_"They're gonna find out," she warned._

_"I just…I want to find Hart first, give him a chance to claim Peter…or not."_

_"And if he's not interested, or you can't find him, or they don't give you the chance to find him?"_

_"That's weird, isn't it?" he asked rhetorically. "It's pretty hard to make plans when you don't know where you're gonna be for the next couple years."_

_"I tried so hard to get Alexandra to drop the charges," she said softly, her eyes moist._

_"Don't do that. Don't beat yourself up," he insisted. "That was a suicide mission. There's nobody in the world that could get me off the hook with Alexandra."_**}}**

At the eleventh hour, Roger struck a deal with Nick Spaulding to avoid prison time, recanting his statement that Billy was the one who shot him in exchange for Nick persuading Alex to drop the charges against Roger. It didn't keep Billy out of jail after all, because he confessed on his own and was currently serving out his sentence for attempted murder.

But Roger had been spared. Alex had dropped the charges, and there was finally nothing standing in Roger and Holly's way, not even themselves any longer. They could finally get on with their lives, together. And they did.

But now Holly knew that while she and Roger had gotten on with their lives, Alexandra hadn't really gotten on with hers, because Alexandra hadn't let go of anything. She was still holding onto everything from years ago, and as if her list of grievances wasn't long enough to start with, she had been adding offenses since Roger had chosen to leave the war for Spaulding Enterprises to the Spauldings once and for all.

Alex refused to accept that Roger really was a changed man. Oh, not completely; Holly knew that. But he was far different from the man he used to be when he had married Alexandra, or when he had stolen her company from her. Alex would never see what Holly did: that Roger had finally realized that Spaulding Enterprises was his personal kryptonite, and that he made the conscious decision to have nothing more to do with it in any capacity because it threatened to destroy the rest of his life, including that which mattered most to him: his marriage to and relationship with Holly.

Alexandra would never believe that Roger was so far beyond Spaulding Enterprises now that he never even checked the company's standings in the stock market. Roger's only interest in business now was his company, and as busy as he and Blake were, and with the growing measure of success they were beginning to find, Holly knew that Thorpe and Marler Consulting would keep Roger plenty busy for years to come. What's more, she knew beyond all doubt that Roger wanted it that way. Spaulding Enterprises was his past. Thorpe and Marler, and his life as her husband and Blake's father, were his future.

But Alex resented them for their happiness too. Alex and Fletcher obviously had some serious issues in their relationship after Valentine's Day, but Holly, unlike the rest of the damn town, with precious few exceptions, didn't believe that she and Roger didn't deserve to be happy. Quite simply, those people were all wrong. She and Roger didn't just fall into their happiness. They worked and fought long and hard for it. It had taken them a lifetime, and a huge amount of work, tears, and pain, but they had put the past to rest and moved forward, both she and Roger taking some hard looks at their own behavior and how they both drove each other to extremes, and they continued to grow and evolve and discover ways to make sure nothing like that ever happened again. They worked at it every day. She and Roger had both decided, this is what I want, this is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and they made the commitment not just to one another and their marriage, but also to doing the work so that their relationship would grow and flourish and last forever this time.

Alexandra hated Roger. That wasn't news; Holly had known that for years. But the fact that Alex hated Roger enough to chloroform and kidnap Holly, lock her up here in this old, unused wine cellar, and have the entrance sealed off with a brick wall in order to get revenge on Roger for everything she held against him was frightening. There was no food or water down here, except for those few bottles of wine. She couldn't wait around indefinitely for Roger or the police or anyone to find her. She had to get out of there, and the sooner, the better.

Knowing all this, on the one hand, Holly was definitely frightened. But the biggest part of her, the strongest part, was determined that Alex wouldn't get away with this, and determined to find a way out of this wine cellar and back to Roger and Blake.

She felt the rope slide off one of her wrists, and she smiled, grateful that Alexandra was never a Girl Scout. Getting untied was the first step. After untying her other wrist, and then her ankles, she struggled to her feet, but having been literally tied up and sitting for so long, she was a little woozy once she was on her feet. She checked her watch: 11:40 PM.

Time was of the essence, but she would get farther looking for an escape route if she wasn't dizzy. She slid to the floor and sat with her back against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest, looking out on the center of the wine cellar. She could take a few minutes to let the dizziness subside before she started looking for a way out.

She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes briefly, picturing Roger in her mind. "When I told you I wanted this to be your most memorable birthday ever, this is not at all what I meant," she said sadly, thinking of how frantic Roger and Blake both had to be right now. They surely knew she was missing, she thought as she opened her eyes; it had been over six hours since she was due home. "There has to be another way out of here, and I'll find it."

She took a few slow, deep breaths then, hoping to ease her dizziness so that once the light-headedness at least subsided if not went away completely, she could focus all of her energy on finding a way out of here and back home to her husband and daughter.

_April 10, 1995, 11:45 PM—Roger and Holly's House_

The evening was very subdued. It occurred to Roger about two hours after they got back to the house that perversely, Ross actually seemed to be worried about him in addition to being worried about Holly and about Blake. Ross was downright solicitous of him, though Roger refused all offers of food, nursed one single-malt Scotch neat all evening, not even considering getting drunk because that would only distract him and dull his senses and instincts as he turned over in his mind whether Alexandra or Josh was ultimately responsible for Holly's disappearance and where they might be holding her, and he wasn't in the mood for conversation, so he kept his words to a minimum and sat slumped in the armchair all evening.

Ross had slightly better results with Blake, although Blake hit the Scotch a lot harder than Roger did. Ross wisely didn't lecture or chastise her for her two-and-a-half Scotch and sodas, and he stayed by her side on the couch all night, holding her, letting her vent her worries and fears, and letting her literally cry on his shoulder. Seeing this, Roger decided that he was right: Blake did find some measure of comfort with Ross, and the way Ross was there for Blake was worthy of Roger's gratitude and trust, especially since it was all Roger could do to force air in and out of his lungs.

When the Scotch and sodas began to take effect, and Blake had vented her spleen for the evening, she found an old movie on television, _Notorious _with Cary Grant, Ingrid Bergman, and Claude Rains, and all conversation ceased as the three of them sat in Roger and Holly's living room and watched it, or in Roger's case, glanced at the screen once in a while. Roger had seen it once, years ago. Ross had seen the first half once upon a time, but never saw the whole thing. Blake had never seen it, but when it became apparent that Claude Rains and his mother were slowly poisoning Ingrid Bergman by repeatedly giving her contaminated tea to drink, Blake was riveted, and more than a little disturbed. Cary Grant was Ingrid Bergman's fellow government agent, her handler while she spied on Claude Rains, who was trafficking uranium with the Nazis, and Cary Grant's and Ingrid Bergman's characters were in love despite her having married Claude Rains to keep him in the dark about what she was really doing.

The one part of the movie that got Roger's full attention was when Claude Rains told Cary Grant, who was there to save Ingrid Bergman from him, that he wasn't afraid to die, and Cary Grant replied, "You've got your chance, here and now." Roger knew exactly how Cary Grant's character felt in that moment: that scumbag Claude Rains was poisoning the woman Cary loved, trying to kill her. The way Roger saw it, Cary would be absolutely justified in taking Claude out permanently for poisoning Ingrid. But Ingrid was so ill by then that all that mattered was getting her medical attention so she didn't die. The Nazis were having a meeting at Claude's house when Cary came running to save Ingrid, and as he carried Ingrid to his car, he ignored Claude's pleas to take him with them to the hospital now that the Nazis knew who Ingrid and Cary really were, and that the U.S. government now knew Claude was in league with the Nazis. That's right, Cary, leave old Claude to the Nazis, Roger thought. Now that they know the U.S. government is on to him, he's expendable, and they'll make it a lot more painful then you would have because, hey, they're Nazis, it's what they did. Indeed, at the film's end, Cary Grant got Ingrid Bergman to the hospital, saving her life so they could finally be together, and it was clear that the Nazis killed Claude Rains when they called him back into the house after Cary Grant refused to take him along to the hospital.

Blake was crying again by the time the movie was over. Roger sat silent and grim-faced as Ross consoled her. If one hair on Holly's head was harmed in any way, so help him, there was no place on Earth the person or persons responsible for it could hide that he wouldn't track them down and make them pay.

Ross turned off the TV after getting Blake calmed down again. "It's getting late, Blake. We should probably go home," he said.

Blake wiped her eyes and looked to her father. "Are you sure you don't want us to stay?" she asked.

Roger nodded. "I'm sure," he said. "You go home and try to get some sleep, honey. I'll see you in the morning."

"How early you see me depends on how hung over I am," Blake replied, acknowledging her Scotch and sodas. She hugged him tightly. "If you change your mind, Daddy…if you need **anything**, no matter what time it is, no matter how hung over you think I am, call me. Promise me that."

Roger smiled at her sadly. "If you could give me what I need, Chrissy, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now," he said.

"Oh, Daddy." Blake hugged him again, then drew back to look at him. "We're gonna find her."

"There's no doubt about that," Roger agreed.

"I'll see you tomorrow, as early as I can manage it," Blake promised. She kissed his cheek.

"We **will** find Holly, Roger," Ross added.

"Of course we will," Roger said. "You just take care of Blake."

Ross nodded. "I will."

Then Ross and Blake were gone, and Roger was alone.

Sighing, he took his and Blake's Scotch glasses, and Ross's empty plate and coffee cup, to the kitchen and put them in the sink. He noticed then that Ross had left the mayonnaise out when he'd made the sandwich he'd eaten during the movie. He went to put the mayonnaise back in the refrigerator…and that's when he saw the bakery box on the bottom shelf.

He put the mayonnaise on the top shelf in front of the milk, picked up the bakery box, and carried it over to the table. His birthday cake.

Holly had hinted that she'd had a special idea for the cake. He had made a bunch of smart-aleck guesses—dinosaurs, footballs, baseballs, race cars, a spaceship, and "whatever cartoon character the kids are into these days"—and she had just laughed and told him that all of his guesses were wrong, and he'd find out when he saw his cake on his birthday.

He opened the box, looked at the cake, and the hurt was so intense, it nearly drove him to his knees.

He had no idea how the bakers had done it, but the cake was in the shape of a baby grand piano. It had a row of black-and-white edible fondant keys, and the lid of the piano was closed, covered in chocolate frosting, the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROGER" written across it in white-frosting cursive.

He bent at the waist, bracing his hands on the table, and just stared down at the cake in the box for he didn't know how long.

He wanted to smash the cake on the floor. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hurt whoever had taken Holly away from him the way he was hurting right now.

But most of all, he wanted Holly there with him where she belonged, teasing him about being another year older, eating this cake with him, sleeping in his arms.

Maybe he should have gotten drunk after all, he thought as he finally closed the bakery box and returned the cake to the refrigerator shelf, if only because the alcohol-induced numbness might have stopped him from feeling this excruciating anguish for even a short time.

He knew he wouldn't be sleeping tonight. The question was, **where** did he **not** want to sleep: the couch; the guest room, which had been his room back when he and Holly had separate bedrooms when he first moved in; or their bed?

He turned out the lights and headed for their bedroom. He reasoned that escaping the memories was impossible because the house contained such a profusion of them in every nook and cranny. At least in their bedroom, he would be surrounded by her things, more than on the couch or in the guest room.

Of course, the house wasn't the only source of memories, just the location of the majority of the happiest ones. But if not for all of those earlier memories that came before this house became the first and only home that he and Holly had ever truly known in their lives-most, but not all, of which occurred elsewhere in town, and some of which had even happened out of town or out of the country-they might not be here now.

April nights in the Midwest can still get chilly, but the chill in the room had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the fact that Holly's warmth was so noticeably absent.

Roger's eyes were drawn to the framed snapshot of he and Holly with Blake and Ross on Holly's nightstand. He, Holly and Blake were all beaming for the camera, radiating their shared jubilation over Roger and Holly's just-completed wedding. Ross was not as ecstatic as they were, but he had a genuine smile on his face because he was happy to see Blake so happy.

His and Holly's wedding day had been the greatest day of Roger's life. How things had come to this, he truly didn't comprehend. He had given up on Spaulding Enterprises for good, and he honestly didn't miss it. He hadn't darkened the Lewises' doorstep since getting visitation with Peter, making all of his visits when Bridget had the little boy, since she didn't look at him like he was going to go on a rampage at any second, unlike Vanessa. He rarely saw the Chamberlains, but he was cordial when they did cross paths. Ed Bauer would hate him until the end of the world, and Ed didn't like that Roger was friends with Maureen and Michelle, but Roger hadn't gone out of his way to tick off Ed recently.

He had been playing by the rules lately, more than he ever had in his life before. He would never be a saint, but he wasn't careening around town, actively trying to destroy these people the way he once had.

But one of them had taken Holly, which was the same as snatching his beating heart right out of his chest.

He sank down on his side of the bed with a sigh and scrubbed his hands over his face. As he did so, he noticed Holly's gray satin robe folded at the foot of the bed on her side. Needing to feel some tangible connection to her now, he picked up her robe, leaned back against the headboard on his side of the bed, and brought the robe to his face. Inhaling deeply, he caught Holly's scent in the fabric and closed his eyes, praying to a God he wasn't sure would ever listen to him to keep her safe wherever she was tonight, and to bring her back to him as soon as possible.


	10. The Unbreakable Connections

_April 11, 1995, 12:44 AM—Wine Cellar and Roger and Holly's House concurrently_

Holly had made a complete circuit of the wine cellar, tapping the walls, looking for a hollow space, a hidden door, but there were none. Alexandra apparently hadn't been lying about the room's use as a bomb shelter 40 years ago.

That made it harder, but not impossible to find a way out. And Holly had to believe she would find a way out. She had too much left to do in this life she and Roger, and Blake too for that matter, had struggled and worked so hard to achieve.

It was late and she was feeling tired. If she could get any sleep at all, that would only help when she renewed her efforts to get out of here, because she needed all her wits about her and as much energy as she could muster to escape.

Sighing, she took off her jacket, rolled it up, and put it beneath her head as a makeshift pillow, trying to make herself comfortable on the concrete floor and trying to ignore the dank, musty smell of the room.

When this was over and she was back home with Roger, the first thing they were going to do was celebrate his birthday the way they were supposed to tonight. Then, she thought, she'd go for a spa day with Blake. And then maybe she and Roger could go away for a weekend somewhere. With both of them being so new to their jobs still, they couldn't take the time for a real vacation, but as they had discussed on their honeymoon, there was no shortage of places around the world that they wanted to see together. In another few months, they might be able to take a week, and maybe they could finally go back to Acapulco, for all the right reasons and with no interruptions this time.

Holly shifted onto her side and let her mind wander back in time. Acapulco. That had been a turning point for her and Roger, a real watershed.

It was the first inkling she had that buried underneath the years of hate she had carried, she still loved him and always would.

Which had led to years of turmoil as her head and her heart battled over what she should do about that; what was the right thing to do, what she wanted to do.

Agreeing to help Alexandra test Roger's fidelity by pretending to seduce him in Acapulco really knocked her for a loop in more ways than one. She remembered how, when she was kissing him in that room, the part of her that didn't think, the part that just reacted, enjoyed kissing him. Roger always had been a great kisser, and she had discovered to her surprise, upon making the first move by grabbing him and kissing him, that as soon as he began to kiss her back, the first thing she felt was the same heady zing she had felt when she was nineteen and every time their lips met was an exhilarating thrill.

Her panic and confusion took over when they were making out on the bed, and she had yelled at him to stop. He had instantly stopped, apologized, and fled outside to the balcony. After talking herself into continuing with the plan, she followed him outside, where he apologized again, saying he obviously misunderstood her. She had gamely tried to ignore the overwhelming confusion she was feeling and tried again to seduce him, but this time, he turned her down. That made her angry, although with the distance of over four years, she reflected now that on a subconscious level, part of her anger had stemmed from the fact that he wasn't as confused as she felt at that moment.

After Holly's angry outburst against Roger on that balcony, both of them were knocked sideways by what happened next: they finally addressed the elephant in the room, hashing out what had happened between them and what had gone so horribly wrong so long ago. They had stayed calm for the most part, and for the first time ever, they were open and honest with one another about what they had felt then and how they saw it now. With their emotions running high, they laid all their cards on the table, and each of them had made some true confessions and also learned things they had never before known about each other and how each of them saw their first, disastrous marriage. Holly closed her eyes, seeing Roger on that balcony, the intensity in his eyes and voice, as he looked her in the eye and bared his soul…

**_{{_**_"I didn't know how to love. All I knew how to do is try to control, and I would control you and somehow I would make you love me. And when I was sure that you really loved Ed, I just totally lost control and I have regretted that every day of my life, every moment since, because I had destroyed the only woman that I could ever love. And now, I seem to have this opportunity to make some small amends and I never thought I'd have that chance. I don't know what dark force is moving you to be with me tonight, but I know that I am responsible for it, and I know that I will never, never hurt you like that again. You don't want to make love to me, Holly. You don't. And I can't believe it but I can't make love to you because, in some way I don't even begin to understand, I would be forcing you against your will again and I will never, oh God, I will never, ever, __**ever**__ hurt you like that again."__**}}**_

Roger was completely serious about never hurting her like that again. Ever since they had gotten back together, every single time they made love, without fail, there always came that moment, before things progressed too far, that Roger would stop and look into her eyes, making absolutely certain that she wanted to make love with him. Even the times when they were caught up in an I've-got-to-have-you-now frenzy of desire, he always made sure that she wanted to be intimate before they actually were intimate.

Roger had definitely learned how to love since their disastrous first marriage. So had she. Neither one of them had known what they were doing back then. They hadn't known how to truly love each other. The love was there, but immaturity, selfishness, and confusion had all worked in direct opposition to the love, thwarting it completely and preventing them from being capable of loving each other the way they should have…loving each other the way they did now.

With time, effort, and patience, they had learned how to communicate, how to listen and really hear each other, the fine art of compromise, and how to strike a balance of give and take. They had built a trust in one another that they had never known before. And in learning how to do all that, they had learned at last how to truly love and trust one another, and the result was a marriage and a life so full and so rich that it took Holly's breath away every time she thought about it. She had never believed she could feel such joy and fulfillment.

She and Roger—and she and Blake, too—had been apart and at war for far too long. Now that they had all finally come together to be the family they were always meant to be, and now that she and Roger finally had the relationship that was once confined to their wildest dreams, Holly refused to let it end now, like this, no matter what it would take to get her back to her family.

Staring up at the wine cellar ceiling, she stayed back there in Acapulco in her mind…and at that exact same moment, Roger was at home, propped up in their bed, clutching Holly's robe to his heart, and remembering the same thing she was about Acapulco, the moment he had never thought he'd see in their lifetimes: the chance he was given in that room with Holly to apologize to her for destroying her, destroying them, so long ago…

**{{**_"Why did you stop?" she asked. _

_"I'm gonna make you some tea."_

_ "Roger…"_

_ "Holly, come on. I'm a married man."_

_ "That never stopped you before."_

_ "Well, it sure as hell should have!"_

_ "That's it? It's that simple? You're a married man?"_

_ "__**I CAN'T!**__"_

_ "But why?" she pressed._

_ "Maybe I'm just not such a monster."_

_ "Are you trying to prove something to me?"_

_ "And to me too."_

_ "What...what do you want?"_

_ "I guess I want a life, Holly."_

_ She looked at him. "You mean that."_

_ He nodded, and she let out a breath. "What?" he asked._

_ "It's like Costa Verde, only different."_

_ "What is?"_

_ "You. You look so vulnerable. Like it matters what I think."_

_ "Oh, Holly. It __**always**__ mattered."_

_ "I remember one time it didn't," she said, turning her back to him, her voice rough with tears._

_ "And that defines us, doesn't it? That night. It's like there was nothing before it or after it."_

_"What do you expect?"_

_"Nothing. But don't you ever wish we could let it go?"_

_She turned to look at him then. _

_"This is nuts," he said, figuring that she wouldn't want to hear this and trying to find a way to extricate them both from this conversation. "Do you want to go back to the hotel?" he asked. _

_"No. No. Forget it. It's okay." Having started this, she felt compelled to continue it. "All right, let's…" She sat down on the bed and looked at him, standing across the room. "What happened? Why did you ever want to marry me?" she asked. _

_"I loved you," he replied emotionally._

_"Did you really?" she asked, surprised, still uncertain after all these years about whether or not he had really loved her then._

_"As much as I could love anybody," he said. "I thought…you know…" He swallowed. "I had this idea of how it could be."_

_They were being calm and honest, two things they hadn't been with each other in decades, if ever. No shouting, no venom, no anger…just communicating the truth about their individual feelings back then, and how they saw it now, all these years later. _

_"Didn't work out according to your plans, hmm?" she asked. _

_"I wanted…I wanted you to…" He trailed off._

_"I __**married**__ you, Roger. Wasn't that enough?"_

_"Aw, but see, listen to the way you say that. Do you hear that? Like it was a burden you took on, like it was something you had to make the best of."_

_His voice did rise there, so hers did too when she replied, but they kept their tempers in check. "That's not the way it was! At least I was there."_

_"Were you?"_

_"You know I was."_

_"Oh, yeah, you showed up, but…"_

_"But what?"_

_"Okay, do you remember our honeymoon? Do you remember what you said?"_

_She truly had no idea what he was driving at. "I'm sure we said a lot of things."_

_"Except one. Do you remember what you said when I asked if you loved me?"_

_She didn't remember. But what she said was, "That was kind of a crazy question to ask me when we were on our honeymoon."_

_"Right. Okay. But do you remember what you said?"_

_"No," she admitted. _

_"You said, 'I can't look at it that way.'"_

_"I don't remember that." She paused. "I guess I was just trying to be honest."_

_"__**I DIDN'T NEED HONESTY**__!" he shouted. "I needed…words, you know?" He gestured helplessly. "I…I…I needed you to take me around, I needed to feel that you were there for me somehow, you know? And when you said that, it's just like…" He bowed his head._

_"So then you shut down and got angry," she retorted angrily. "Well, how was I supposed to know that? I mean, you didn't tell me that! You just…" She made an unintelligible noise, pushed her hair off her forehead, and went out on the balcony once more. A moment later, he followed her back out there. _

_"Is that all it would have taken? Is that what you're saying?" she asked._

_"No."_

_"You needed the words." _

_"No. I needed __**a lot**__."_

_"And I didn't provide it."_

_"It's not like that. I'm not blaming you. And __**nothing**__ excuses what happened."_

_"But you know, I just didn't know it. I never saw that..."_

_"Holly, there's nothing you could have done. It got to the point where I wouldn't tell you anything, not even the smallest thing. It's almost like I would lie for the sake of lying. There's just not a thing you could have done. I just never felt like I was enough."_

_"Roger, I __**married**__ you. I was married to Ed and I had __**an affair**__ with you. Didn't that tell you anything?"_

_"Yeah. It told me you were passionate, and that we were passionate together. But I tell you that I never, ever felt like you respected me, either as your husband, as a man..."_

_"You were never there."_

_"Oh, I was there. But, no, I mean, I was very stupid. I had this, you know, this real idea of being out there in the marketplace and goin' out there and makin' a big success of myself and makin' you proud of me, and that would fix everything."_

_"And what about all those late nights with all those other women?" She hastily continued, "Never mind, I don't want to know."_

_"That was lousy. That was all terrible, you're right. But I'm telling you, it was all part of the same thing: the need to get ahead, the need to use whoever I could. It had nothing to do with them."_

_"It had to do with you."_

_"And you. I wanted to bring it all home to you on a silver platter, baby."_

_"And then what? Then what would happen?"_

_"Then…you'd talk to me."_

_She was shocked. "What?"_

_"You'd tell me it was enough, that __**I**__ was enough. You'd tell me __**something**__."_

_"I talked to you, Roger. I told you things all the time."_

_"That was fighting. It was not talking. That was how I would find out that I'd messed up."_

_"Then you'd want to jump into bed and fix things."_

_"I couldn't feel like the fights were the only thing that defined us, you know? You know, I… It had to be something more than all the stuff that was coming down with all those fights."_

_"I couldn't do it. Not after fighting. And you know, it was like the anger was a turn-on for you."_

_"Well, maybe that was part of it."_

_"But that was sick, can't you see that? I couldn't respond."_

_"I'm not saying you should have. All I'm saying is I didn't know what to do. I would come home at night and I'd take one look at your face and I'd say, 'Okay, something's wrong. Now, let's see if I can figure this out. What do I do, what do I say, what have I done, what can I do to make this woman smile?' I just…" He tapped his forehead with the fingertips of both hands and whispered, "I didn't know what to do."_

_"Why didn't you ask me?"_

_"Ah. Why didn't you tell me?"_

_"I couldn't," she replied tearfully. "I didn't know myself." Both of them had tears in their eyes, and she walked away from him then, to the other end of the balcony, her hand to her forehead._

_ He had gone back in the room then. She had remained on the balcony a few minutes longer, then she had come back inside. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and she knelt down in front of him so she could look him in the eyes as they continued talking._

_"I want you to tell me the truth," she said. "I know you have ideas about what was going to be, or what should have been, but forget all that. Just… Do you think it could have worked for us?" He cracked a closed-mouthed smile then. "What?"_

_"That's the first time you said 'us.'"_

_"Answer me."_

_"I was crazy about you, Hol. And I was totally nuts about our daughter."_

_"But could it have worked?"_

_"That's what breaks my heart." _

_She got up then, needing to move, but she turned back to face him, standing a few feet away now. "You know, I was watching you the other day at the convention, and I suddenly noticed that you have gray hair." She laughed, which made him laugh. Then she sat down on the floor. "What's even sillier is how it surprised me."_

_He laughed again. "It's kinda hard to miss," he pointed out._

_"But when I think of you and me, I see us back then," she explained. "It was like I suddenly realized…" She trailed off._

_"What? That we're old?" he asked with a bit of a smile._

_"No," she replied, smiling her own bit of a smile back at him. "That we were __**so young**__. I mean, Blake is older now than we ever were." She grew serious then. "I didn't have a clue, Roger. I was just blowin' in the wind. I wasn't in touch with my feelings. I couldn't have made you happy. __**I**__ wasn't happy. God knows how I ever raised our daughter."_

_"Don't do that to yourself," he told her. "You did better with her than anybody could've. Come on, I never gave you a chance. I just took and took like she was my prize, like I won something if I took her from you. I never gave you a chance." They gazed at each other intently before he continued. "Listen…it sounds so pathetic after all these years…" His voice dropped to a rasping whisper as his eyes shone with unshed tears, the intensity of his regret and sorrow, and the profound sincerity of his words, etched deeply and palpably on his face, "But I am so, so sorry…so sorry, for all of it."_

_Her eyes shone with unshed tears of their own as she held his gaze, her hand covering her mouth. _

_When she finally stood up, folding her arms tightly across herself, he went to her side and whispered, "What?"_

_ "It could have worked. I mean, we weren't stupid." She looked him in the eye. "It could have worked."_

_He touched her hair. "Oh, Holly."_**}}**

It could have worked when they were young. But it didn't. He spent fifteen years wishing for a second chance for them, vowing that whatever it took, if they ever got that second chance, this time it **would** work.

He stared up at the ceiling. Someone was trying to steal their second chance right out from under them. He couldn't be as apathetic about the opinions of others as Holly could. He didn't care what these people thought any more than she did; he knew they would all hate him forever, and nothing would ever change that. But it really bothered him that almost the entire town treated Holly like some kind of criminal because she had married him. He believed that she deserved to be treated and thought of better than she had been since news of their marriage became public knowledge.

But it never fazed her. She truly did not care at all what they thought of her. Let any of them say one word about him or about their marriage, though, and she instantly became a lioness protecting her cub, like their first day back from their honeymoon, the stand she had taken with Fletcher after an overlong day of his passive-aggressive insults and shots about Roger and her marrying him. Roger remembered standing under a security lamp in the _Journal_'s parking garage with Holly that night, and what she had said to him about his witnessing her putting Fletcher on notice regarding his sarcastic comments about him and about them being married…

**_{{_**_"As long as I am breathing, no one is going to tear you or our love and our marriage down where I can hear them, or they're going to hear from me like Fletcher just did. I don't care what they think they know, because they're wrong. I know who you really are, and that's the man I love. Being married to you, having what we have… That is all I want, and it is all I will ever want."_**}}**

He lay down on his side then, looking at the empty side of the bed where Holly should be. He draped her robe across his chest and lap as a makeshift blanket and stretched out his arm, placing his hand flat on her side of the bed, and cursing whoever had taken her from him for the millionth time.

_April 11, 1995, 1:29 AM—Wine Cellar_

Holly shifted onto her side as she recalled the deep, unfettered emotion of that unforeseen conversation in Acapulco, as she and Roger realized that neither one of them had had the first clue what they were doing when they were married, and just how misguided each of their ideas about marriage had been. It could have worked…had each of them not been so messed up about so many things back then.

The important thing was that it worked now. The fact that they were happily married to each other now was the miracle of their lives, and a testament to both how much they wanted it and how all the pain they had endured and all the work they had done and still continued to do yielded the sweetest reward possible.

That night in Acapulco was where the healing had begun for them both, as they stood there facing each other, emotionally spent but understanding, as much as they could, just how little they had known one another and how ill-equipped they had been to be married to each other back then…

**{{**_"Listen to me. I did that to you. I put that fear and that hatred in you. It was me." He brushed her hair off her forehead as she looked up at him. "I'm just so sorry," he whispered. _

_He stroked her hair again, letting his hand fall to touch her cheek, and she didn't recoil from his touch as she asked, "What am I gonna do? I've hated you for so many years. I feel empty now."_

_He kissed her forehead, and she laid her head on his shoulder. They were both spent after revealing such raw emotions in so brutally honest a manner. He wrapped his arm around her and rested his cheek against her forehead. "Maybe we're just not so lost anymore," he said._**}}**

But the truth had come out about Holly being part of Alexandra's plan to test Roger's fidelity, ending Holly's relationship with Ross, and hurting Roger deeply. Looking back now, the only thing she regretted about the watershed that was Acapulco was having hurt Roger so much when he found out the original reason for her attempting to seduce him there, a reason that had ceased to matter to her the further she and Roger got into their conversation. He had let her know after they got back to Springfield how angry he was about that, though…

**{{**_"Well, this should be a festive evening," she said. She and Roger were the only ones in the country club ballroom except for staff members bustling about with candlesticks and place cards in preparation for the big New Year's Eve party. _

_"Well, I don't know how festive it'll be. After all, no mariachi band," Roger replied. _

_"You are so angry with me."_

_"With good reason, don't you think?"_

_"I tried to tell you I was sorry."_

_"Well, neither of us is all that adept at forgiveness."_

_"There is no comparison!"_

_"How could I forget?"_

_"What?"_

_"That lovely evening in Acapulco when you invited me to come with you to that honeymoon cottage."_

_"What about it?"_

_"You sure made a fool out of me. I was so stupid to think that you might feel differently toward me, that you might think that I have changed when I obviously __**had**__ changed."_

_"Yes, you were very noble, all right?"_

_"And you weren't. How do you explain that?"_

_"I was not unfaithful to Ross."_

_"He thinks you were."_

_"Nothing happened. You were there. You know."_

_"But you wanted it to."_

_"I did not! It was just part of the plan."_

_"That's not the way it seemed to me, and as you say, I was there."_

_"Well, I wasn't supposed to seem insincere."_

_"When you took your dress off, that was quite a moment. You sure hated the fact that I wouldn't touch you."_

_"I was frustrated. There's a difference."_

_"Well, you sure must be frustrated now, because now, nobody'll touch you."_

_"This is really none of your damn business."_

_"I don't know. That depends. What's your next gambit?"_

_"Just forget about me, Roger. All I want is the man I love back."_

_"And who's that? Really?"__**}}**_

At the time, she had thought it was Ross. But she never felt for Ross…she never felt for any other man…one-tenth of what she had always felt, and would always feel, for Roger. Holly was living proof of the fine line between love and hate, and she spent the years of confusion and emptiness following Acapulco constantly walking that line, and rarely, if ever, being certain which side of it she was on with regard to Roger, because her head and her heart were constantly at war over how she felt about him, with her head insisting that the right thing, the only thing, to do was to hate him, and her heart whispering to her every so often, after she and Roger had talked, or spent time together, or Hart tried to mow him down with a car, or she told her brain to just shut up, however temporarily, and followed her heart's expressed desire, that somehow, beneath the confusion and the emptiness, the love she had felt for him since she was nineteen years old was still there.

But she wasn't ready to listen to her heart over her head in perpetuity yet, and so, still convinced that Ross was the man she wanted to be with, a new miserable experience found her the morning she walked in on Blake and Ross in bed together. It may have started out as Blake trying to get back at Holly, but it was hard to say who was more astonished that they fell in love with each other for real, Blake, Ross, or Holly.

Of course, Holly recalled as she tucked her hand beneath her cheek, she had been so resentful of her daughter for betraying her so deeply that it took quite a while for her to realize that it was indeed love between Ross and Blake, and not just hormones run amok. In the meantime, things got really ugly between her and Blake for several months. She grimaced as she remembered the night she got drunk at the country club and she and Blake had a knock-down, drag-out argument in which they both said things they knew would purposely hurt each other as much as possible…

**{{**_Blake was loitering by the deserted swimming pool, having walked away from Ross on the patio in anger, and Holly, having witnessed this, had followed her daughter._

_"What's the matter, honey?" she asked sarcastically. "Can't take the heat?"_

_"Oh, you think this is funny, making my life miserable?" Blake asked._

_"How does it feel?" Holly wanted to know. _

_"You know, I didn't do anything to you. This is not __**about**__ you. Why don't you just butt out of my life and find one of your own? That is, if you can find anybody who's still interested." _

_"You are vicious."_

_"Yeah? Well, how does it feel, Mom?"_

_"Look, I don't know what's happened between you and lover boy now, but __**you**__ started this whole thing to hurt me. And you flaunt it, and you rub my face in it, and it's humiliating. You want to play dirty, like you learned from Daddy? Well, fine, honey. You got it." Then Holly pushed Blake into the pool!_

_"You pushed me!" Blake gasped as she surfaced, pushing her wet hair out of her eyes._

_"You tripped," Holly retorted condescendingly._

_"You deliberately pushed me!" Blake exclaimed. _

_"Look at your dress, honey, it's ruined," Holly continued in that same condescending tone of voice._

_"God, I don't believe you did this!" Blake climbed out of the pool, soaking wet._

_"Oh, and your hair."_

_"My hair? You could have killed me!" Blake put the shoe she had lost in the pool back on after pouring the water in it onto the pool deck._

_"This is a new look for you."_

_"You are really sick!" Blake shouted._

_"No, I'm just fine, but you look like a drowned rat," Holly retorted, finally dropping the condescension for a more acidic tone. "I think your boyfriend oughta see you now. Come on. In fact, I think the whole town should meet the candidate's girlfriend!" She grabbed Blake by one of the shoulder straps of her dress and pulled her towards the patio._

_Blake broke from Holly's grasp and warned her, "Get out of my way!"_

_"I'm not through with you!"_

_"I'm warning you, Mother!"_

_"Do you want your daddy to see you like this?"_

_"Oh, you are so pathetic!"_

_"You just keep forgetting the all-important thing: you started this!"_

_"This is about who started it?"_

_"No, this is about why. Why? Why did you do this to me, Blake?"_

_"Oh, no, I am not getting into this!"_

_Blake tried to walk away, but Holly stopped her. "You are just like your father! You get close to the truth, and you run like hell."_

_"No," Blake said, "I don't think it's Daddy I take after at all. Don't be so modest, Mother. I'm like you! You raised me."_

_"I __**tried**__ to raise you. You wouldn't let me get close to you! All you wanted was him!"_

_"Because he loved me!" Blake exclaimed._

_"I loved you, too!"_

_"I don't think so," Blake said, her wide eyes betraying some of her emotional anguish. "No matter how many times you tell me that, or yourself, you always said the right words, Mom, but I saw the way that you looked at me when you didn't think I was looking, and all you saw was the daughter of a man that you hated, and you just despise me for reminding you of him! You just said it again: I'm just like Daddy." Holly put a hand to her forehead as Blake continued, her anger returning, "And we all know what that means to you. How do you think years of hearing __**that**__ made me feel?" Blake got emotional again when she said, "If it weren't for Ross, I would still hate myself!"_

_"He takes you to bed, and all of a sudden you feel worthwhile?" _

_"No! He cares about me, imperfections and all," Blake informed her mother._

_"He can't see past your all-too-willing body!" Holly snapped._

_"And he trusts me. For the first time in my life, somebody actually trusts me and believes in me, and I love him for that."_

_"You don't love him! You went after him to get back at me!"_

_Blake laughed mirthlessly. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I guess every man in Springfield is off limits!"_

_"What is that supposed to mean?"_

_"Just name one man in this town, dead or alive, that you haven't thrown yourself at!" Blake challenged._

_"Give me a break!"_

_"Come on, Mom, name one!"_

_Holly shoved Blake again. "You have lost it!" Blake shouted._

_"All I've lost is a daughter."_

_"I feel sorry for you."_

_"Oh, yeah, you're just brimming over with compassion for me."_

_"Well, besides having Ross, I'm young, Mother. That's something you've lost forever."_

_"You think that's what counts?"_

_"It just must be so painful for you to see how men respond to me."_

_"So you took off your clothes and you paraded yourself around in front of him and he responded to you. He had the bad taste and the poor judgment to respond to you. And you did the whole thing just to get back at me, Blake!"_

_"We're gonna go back to that one again? No! No. The way I see it, you never really had him. Or maybe he just got tired of all your neurotic ways."_

_Holly raised her hand to slap Blake across the face then, but Blake grabbed her wrist and held it so she couldn't. "No," Blake said._

_"That's enough," Holly said. "You're just a tramp, and he's gonna figure it out sooner or later."_

_"Ross loves me," Blake said, but there was an undercurrent of insecurity in her voice, as that was the source of their current argument: Blake had declared her love to Ross, and he hadn't said it back._

_"No, he doesn't. I don't believe that for a second, and neither do you," Holly dismissed, having picked up on the undercurrent of insecurity in Blake's voice._

_"Yes, he does!" Blake insisted._

**_"ALL RIGHT, STOP IT, BOTH OF YOU, RIGHT NOW!" _**_Ross shouted from behind them, and they both turned to look at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked. He led Blake away from Holly and asked her, "Are you okay?" as he cradled the back of her head in one hand and brushed her wet hair off her forehead with the other._

_"I'm fine," Blake replied._

_"I'm fine too, Ross, thanks," Holly said sarcastically as she approached them again._

_"She's gonna tell my father about us," Blake told Ross._

_"I think it's only fitting that the father know who the daughter is bedding this week," Holly replied._

_Ross looked at Holly, and Blake turned to face her again as she asked her mother, "And what good is that gonna do? Prevent Ross from becoming Senator? Is it really worth it?"_

_"I don't think Ross deserves to be Senator," Holly replied haughtily._

_"Forget about that, and try thinking about your daughter," Ross told Holly as he rested his hands on Blake's shoulders. _

_Holly looked at them there before her, presenting a united front. Could Blake be right? Could Ross really love her? "I don't care about either one of you," she said._

_"Holly, you don't mean that," Ross said._

_"Try me," she said coldly. Then she turned and walked back up by the pool. "Where is Roger?" she wondered._

_"Holly!" Ross called, walking after her. "Holly, let me take you home."_

_"That's not gonna stop me, Ross."_

_"I don't care what it stops or what it doesn't stop. You've had too much to drink."_

_"Alan-Michael can drive me home."_

_"Alan-Michael left over an hour ago," Ross informed her._

_"The place is filled with gentlemen," Holly said, turning and walking away._

_"Holly…" Ross called._

_"Go to hell, Ross!" she called back as she continued walking away.__**}}**_

Holly had wondered the next day if she and Blake would ever be able to get past that. Of course, as was typical of them at the time, things got a lot worse before they started to get better, and Roger got pulled into it when he found out about the true nature of Blake and Ross's relationship, which he hadn't taken well at first, either.

A few months after that blowout came one of the worst nights of Holly's life: Blake trying to make amends and Holly brutally shooting her down; getting stood up by Roger, who forgot he had told her he'd take her out for her birthday, so that he could go out with Jenna Bradshaw instead; a migraine tablet and a bottle of wine. It wasn't until the next morning, when she regained consciousness and found the worried Roger ministering to her, that the previous night's hell came rushing back, causing her to cringe as it came rushing back to her again now …

**{{**_"You've got a little more color in those beautiful cheeks. Come on, now."_

_"Oh, my head." She winced._

_"You've got a hangover."_

_"Hangover. How did I __**do**__ that?"_

_"I also found some pills on the floor."_

_"M-migraine."_

_"You mixed pills with alcohol, Holly?"_

_"__**One **__pill. Oh." She finally got her eyes open enough to see Roger there beside her, trying to take care of her and wake her up. "What are you doing here?"_

_"You called me. You left seven messages on my machine."_

_"Seven times I called you?"_

_"You sounded very upset, Holly."_

_"I called you seven times? I need some more coffee." She took the mug from his hand and drank deeply. _

_"Holly, what happened?"_

_And then she remembered. "Oh, god." She put her hand to her splitting head and closed her eyes again. _

_"What?"_

_"Oh, no." She opened her eyes and looked at Blake's picture on the floor. _

_Roger followed her gaze. "It's about Blake?"_

_"I did a terrible thing."_

_"What? Was she here?"_

_"Yeah, she came here. She wanted to wish me a happy birthday." _

_"Oh." He knew this was not going anywhere good._

_"She said she wanted to make up."_

_"And what happened, you wouldn't?"_

_"Well, I was so angry. She kept pushing me and she kept pushing. Why can't she just leave it alone, you know? Just leave it."_

_"Holly, what did you do?"_

_"I, uh…" She couldn't look at him when she admitted it. "I told her I didn't love her."_

_He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. "Oh, Holly, come on. You didn't mean it. She knows that."_

_"It just came out like that."_

_"She knows, Holly."_

_Holly was near tears now. "She's always thought I don't love her enough. Always." She laid her head on his shoulder as the tears began. "And that's the terrible thing. She's right. I've just been such a failure as a mother."_

_"No, you haven't."_

_"And now I can't do anything right. I'm just a failure at everything."_

_"Oh, Holly," Roger said as he just held her there against his side.__**}}**_

Holly had eventually seen that Blake and Ross truly were in love with each other, that no matter how it had started, they were committed to each other in a way they had never been committed to anyone else and good for each other in a way that no one else had ever been for either of them, and that was when the breach between her and Blake had started to heal, because despite their antagonistic history, Holly did love her daughter and wanted her to be happy. When Holly saw for herself that being with Ross made Blake happier than she'd ever been in her life, and realized that Ross truly loved Blake, she couldn't do anything else but hope that they made it through all the initial stumbles their love took as their relationship grew.

Things finally reached the point where Blake actually came to Holly with her worries and fears about her relationship with Ross, and Holly summoned up that day in her mind now, the day she and Blake had taken a giant step toward mending their fractured relationship in a booth at the diner…

**{{**_"I remember a time when I was little, and you two were happy. I mean, to me, you two were the most romantic couple in the world. It was like Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant. You know, I used to watch you when you were getting ready to go somewhere wonderful with Daddy. You were so beautiful to me. I used to watch you brush your hair, and I loved to smell the perfume that you put on, everything about you, your clothes… Everything was just perfect. I wanted to be exactly like you. I think I spent most of my life trying."_

_"There are too many aspects of my character that aren't worth emulating, honey."_

_"A child can't pick and choose, Mom. It's all one package."_

_"Honey, you have got to realize something: what happened to me with your father is __**not **__going to happen to you with Ross, or anybody."_

_"How can you know that?"_

_"Because you are not me, and you never will be. I think most little girls want to emulate their mothers. I could have been an axe murderer, and you still might feel the same sense of childish admiration. But let me tell you something: after all these years, I still don't know what I want…and you do. You know who you want. And you have gone after it single-mindedly. I can't tell you how I envy that. Another thing…Despite what you may think, and despite what I have said to you out of anger and bitterness, I've always loved you, honey. And beyond that, I admire you now for your strength and for your tenacity. I think you've got guts. I do love you, honey."__**}}**_

She and Blake had a better relationship now than they had ever had in their lives, and, Holly reflected, like her relationship with Roger, getting there with Blake had taken a huge amount of tears, pain, and work. None of them were slaves to the past anymore. None of them were out to hurt each other anymore. And Blake would always be a daddy's girl, but that was no longer a bone of contention between her and Holly because they both loved Roger, and they loved each other.

Holly would forever marvel at the woman Blake had become, despite all the mistakes she and Roger had made with Blake, all the things they had done that could very well have messed Blake up permanently and alienated her from one or both of them forever. Somehow, despite the way they had been back then, they had managed to create a smart, funny, loyal, strong, tenacious, beautiful daughter who was fiercely devoted to her loved ones and a force to be reckoned with both personally and professionally, and Holly couldn't be prouder of Blake, or admire her more.

She and Blake had lost enough time as combatants, whether it was over Roger, over Ross, or the myriad other things that had strained their relationship in the past. But now, Holly thought, she was finally right where she wanted to be with both Roger and Blake. Her relationships with her husband and daughter, taken in total, were object lessons proving that love was stronger than hate. As she nodded off, Holly held fast to her thoughts of Roger and Blake in her dreams, vowing to make it out of there for them.

_April 11, 1995, 3:02 AM—Ross and Blake's House_

As Holly dozed in her wine cellar prison, and Roger lay awake in his and Holly's bed consumed with thoughts and memories of her, Blake was awake too, at her and Ross's house. The Scotch and sodas that had seemed like such a good idea at her parents' house were adding to both her melancholy and her insomnia, though of course the main reason for both the melancholy and the insomnia was that her mother was missing.

Blake had plenty of unpleasant memories of the three most important people in her world, but since the seismic shift in all of their lives last year, culminating in her and Ross's wedding in June and her parents' wedding in December, when she had cause to think back, she went straight to the good memories, of which there were more every day…at least until yesterday.

Like the night she sat on her parents' couch and watched them playing "Heart and Soul" together on the piano her mother had surprised her father by bringing home, the piano he was raised on: the look on her father's face when he realized what her mother had done; the way her mother had just smiled, her eyes sparkling, at his reaction; the way they had looked at each other before her father had hugged her mother, making her mother laugh happily; the way Blake had watched with a grin as they embraced.

Then she and Holly had sat on the couch and listened to Roger play the piano, and Blake was amazed, never having known until that moment just how good he was.

He had wanted Blake to join him in playing "Heart and Soul" but she had begged off and said her mother should do it instead. So Holly sat beside Roger on the piano bench, and as Blake had looked on, her heart full to bursting, her parents played"Heart and Soul" together, smiling all the while as they looked back and forth from the piano keys to each other's faces. As she'd told them afterwards, it was right; they should be sitting there at the piano, playing together.

Harmony with one another had never been her parents' strong suit. Actually, it hadn't seemed to be a realistic possibility for the longest time, but knowing her parents as she did, Blake knew that each of them in their own way had no problem defying conventional expectations. And somehow, at last, they had found a way to defy those conventional expectations together, and no one would ever be happier for them than she would.

She turned the page in the wedding album on her lap—her and Ross's wedding album. She hadn't looked at it in a while, and she needed these visual reminders of the happiest day of her life tonight, the day when she and Ross had been on top of the world and both of her parents had truly been happy for her.

When her eyes landed on the photograph of herself and Holly together before the ceremony, Blake gasped, and fresh tears welled in her eyes. Despite this having been her third wedding (but it was the only one that meant everything, because she knew now that she had married both Phillip and Alan-Michael for all the wrong reasons, and she had married Ross for all the right ones), and despite their contentious history (especially where Ross was concerned), Holly and Blake had had a mother/daughter moment before the ceremony that Blake would remember forever, a moment she had craved her whole life and that brought a pang of happiness to her soul now in the midst of all the fear and anger and worry she was feeling for both of her parents…

**_{{_**_"You are so beautiful," Holly said as she and Blake looked at Blake's reflection in the full-length mirror._

_"Oh, I don't know. I think I'm gonna have a bad hair day, Mom," Blake said as she turned away from the mirror and went to sit down and finish putting on her makeup._

_"No, I'm not talking about your hair. Your hair looks fine," Holly replied as she sat down beside her daughter. "I'm talking about you, about the woman you have become. Do you know that for so long, there was something in you, like a need in you, that just wouldn't go away? There was something so angry and sad about you. And now you are full of life, so open."_

_"Well, that's because I was the brat from Hell, and I could only go up from there." Blake laughed at that, so Holly did too, but then Blake got serious. "Actually, that's not what I meant to say. Not because it's not true or anything, but you had a lot to do with it, Mom. I think I needed you to be hard on me. I think Dad was so grateful to have me around that he would excuse-make for me, and you didn't let up. You didn't give up on me. Anybody else would've. __**I**__ gave up on me." Now Blake was crying. "And I'm so glad you're here."_

_They hugged. _

_"Oh, honey. I am so proud of you," Holly whispered._

_"We made it!" Blake exclaimed happily._

_"Yes, we made it, sweetie," Holly agreed before they drew back to look at each other._

_"And you're good for Dad, too. I mean, it looks like you're good, yeah?"_

_"I hope so."__**}}**_

There was no doubt about it now: Holly **was** good for Roger. And Roger was good for Holly. Blake had once mused that if her father could ever find the words, and her mother could ever stop being angry long enough to listen, who knew what would happen.

Well, Roger had found the words, and Holly had stopped being angry long enough to listen, and they had triumphed over their demons and made a life together, a good life, a happy life.

She had always hoped that her parents would somehow, someday reach a place where they got married again—to each other this time. God, and all of Springfield, knew that they'd both tried to find happiness with other people, but it never worked. Until last year, when they finally got back together for good, Blake had wondered how her father could have been with some of the other women he'd been with—Alexandra Spaulding was the only one that made any kind of sense, since that was all about her millions; as far as she was concerned, Mindy Lewis and Jenna Bradshaw were definitely exhibits A and B in the "what the hell were you thinking, Dad, really?" file; her mom at least had good taste in other men—with the exceptions of Dietrich Lindsey and Daniel St. John, but at least Dietrich hadn't been a homicidal psychopath—but she could never be herself with any of them, including Ed Bauer, the way she could with Roger, which Blake figured out long before Holly did.

And Blake had her own theory about **why** it never worked. She believed that her parents had fallen truly, madly, deeply in love when they were young, and despite everything that happened between them back then, that love never went away. It got buried under a lot of hate and confusion and anguish, but it was always there. Neither Roger nor Holly could ever give their heart to anyone else, because all along, Holly had Roger's heart, and Roger had Holly's heart.

But even this long-held theory of Blake's, and the fact that at her wedding she purposely tossed her bouquet right at her mother so that Holly was the only woman who could have possibly caught it—which she did, much to Roger's delight—hadn't stopped Blake from being surprised when she dropped by to see her parents when she got home from her honeymoon and discovered that Holly and Roger had taken a big step in their own relationship while she and Ross were on their honeymoon…

**_{{_**_"Welcome back!" Holly exclaimed as they hugged. _

_ "As great as the honeymoon was, it's good to be home," Blake replied, pulling back and looking at her mother. Holly seemed to be glowing herself, something Blake couldn't quite identify in her smile and the set of her shoulders, but Blake was certain that it wasn't caused only by Holly's happiness for her. _

_ Blake reached for her mother's hands, and was startled when her hand brushed across something hard on her mother's right hand. Bringing Holly's hand up, Blake gasped when she saw the ring on her third finger. "What's that?" she asked._

_ "What does it look like?" Holly replied, her smile growing wider._

_ "It looks like an engagement ring, but it's on the wrong hand," Blake replied. "What's the story, Mom?"_

_ "Your father asked me to marry him while you were on your honeymoon," Holly said. "But I'm not quite ready to get married yet." _

_ Blake's face fell, picturing Roger's reaction to this. "Oh," she said._

_ "I didn't say 'no,' I just said I'm not ready yet," Holly hastened to assure her daughter. "So he asked me to wear the ring on my right hand until I'm ready to move it to my left hand and get married, and I agreed." She flexed her fingers, Blake following her gaze to the ring, then looked back at Blake and said, "Your father and I are engaged to be engaged."_

_ "And Dad's okay with that?" Blake asked. _

_ "Dad is very okay with that," Roger piped up. Holly and Blake both turned to see Roger standing by the front door, having just entered the house. Roger crossed the room, quickly kissed Holly hello, then hugged Blake. "Welcome home, honey."_

_ Blake hugged her father back, then looked at both of her parents. "So you're engaged to be engaged. That's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Any ideas on when that will be changing to engaged to be married?"_

_ Roger and Holly looked at each other, then back at Blake. "That's up to your mom," Roger said. "There's no pressure."_

_ "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my father?" Blake asked, only half kidding. _

_ Roger took Holly's hand then. "It's taken a lifetime, but I've finally learned that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Your mom and I love each other, we're committed to being together, and when the time is right and we're both sure that it's right, we'll get married. One step at a time, Chrissy," Roger replied. He looked at Holly then. "Right, Hol?"_

_ "Right," Holly agreed, looking back at Roger, and the way they smiled at each other made Blake feel invisible…and she didn't mind the feeling one bit.__**}}**_

As if getting it right with Ross herself wasn't amazing and incredible enough, seeing her parents finally get it right with each other was the icing on the cake. Wherever their newfound wisdom and patience was coming from, they weren't the only ones reaping the benefits. Anyone else would think that Blake getting relationship advice from either one of her parents was one of the all-time boneheaded moves she could make, but that just wasn't so, because when Blake needed someone to talk to about her bewilderment over marriage and what makes a good wife, it was Holly who had given her really great advice…

**{{**_"Honey, don't stop living your life just because you're married," Holly said as she set a mug of coffee in front of Blake, then settled herself across the table from her daughter with her own mug of coffee. "Marriage is not the finish line. It's just what you are while you keep doing the things you were doing before. I think the problem a lot of people have is they get into a relationship, and then they stop doing the things that made them interesting to the other person in the first place."_

_"Yeah! Why is it that people do that?" Blake wondered._

_"I don't know. Probably because they think they're supposed to," Holly replied. "Anything that takes away from togetherness is suspect. Of course, then there's always the partner who tries to change the other partner, like I did with your father."_

_"But you're not doing that now?"_

_"Not as much anymore. I think the things that threatened me about him were the things that attracted me."_

_"Well, I can understand that with Dad. But Ross is different. Why am I so desperate to play a role that he hasn't even asked me to play?"_

_"Don't be so hard on yourself. You didn't grow up exposed to happy marriages. Look, let's face it. I mean, when we lived in Switzerland, Dietrich? And when you were younger, living with your father and me, the marriage was falling apart. At four years old, all you heard were slamming doors and parents screaming behind them. I mean, of course you have a cockamamie idea of what being a wife is all about. You probably got your role models from TV sitcoms. You know, the happy homemaker in high heels."_

_"Oh, that's horrible! Ross is gonna end up hating me."_

_"Oh, never," Holly assured her. "But you have to find what's right for __**you.**__ You've got to find some worthwhile place for all this wonderful talent and energy you've got. Stop imitating what you think a perfect marriage is like, and find out what it is that makes __**you**__ excited, what gets __**your**__ adrenaline going. Then you're gonna stop putting all your focus on your man and expecting him to be totally responsible for your happiness. Just because you're in a relationship doesn't mean you can't be your own woman."__**}}**_

Her mother had been right. Being married and having a career were not mutually exclusive, and it wasn't fair to expect Ross to be completely responsible for her happiness. She missed working. She missed the business world. That was where her talent and energy would find their best outlet. She could be a wife and a businesswoman and be great at both. And Ross had been nothing but supportive since she had announced her intention to go to work with her father...

**_{{_**_"I never expected you to stop working when we got married," Ross said when she told him about Roger starting his own company, and that she had asked her father if she could come to work with him. "And working with me isn't really your cup of tea. But working with your father would be."_

_"So you're okay with me going to work with my dad in his consulting firm?" Blake asked. She had thought she'd have to talk Ross around to her way of thinking. _

_"Well, that depends. Is Roger planning another hostile takeover of Spaulding Enterprises?" Ross asked._

_"God, no!" Blake exclaimed. "He told me that his consulting firm will have nothing whatsoever to do with Spaulding Enterprises, Lewis Oil, or any subsidiaries of either company."_

_"Will wonders never cease," Ross murmured. _

_"You were at my parents' wedding. You should know the answer to that question is no," Blake replied. _

_Ross looked at Blake then. "I admit, being with Holly really has changed Roger. Not completely," he added hastily. "Not even she is capable of that. But he's a lot more…I don't know…centered, I guess. He's a lot more grounded with her than he ever was before. And amazingly, Holly's happier than I've ever seen her in all the years I've known her."_

_"So as long as Dad's not out to steal Spaulding Enterprises or Lewis Oil away from their families of origin, you have no problem at all with me working with him?" Blake reiterated._

_"Will you be happy working in your father's consulting firm?" Ross wanted to know._

_Blake didn't hesitate. "Yes," she replied. "I really think yes. This is what I know, Ross. And I'm good at it. This is what I've been missing."_

_"Then that's all that matters, Blake," Ross said, "because if you're happy, I'm happy. That's the deal."_

_She kissed him then, and all talk of work was put aside for a far more pleasurable activity.__**}}**_

Ross sat down beside her then, and she registered his presence when he put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her against him, and dropped a gentle kiss on top of her head. "Have you gotten any sleep at all, Blake?" he asked softly.

"I can't sleep," she replied, setting their wedding album on the coffee table and going into her husband's embrace. "They're finally getting it right, Ross," she said, resting her cheek against his shoulder, "and I don't care how selfish it makes me sound, but I'm not done needing my mom yet. And we're finally a family! It's still so new, but it's better than all my dreams of being a family ever were." The tears came again as she pulled back to look at him and pleaded, "Tell me this isn't all I get, Ross. Tell me this isn't all **they're** gonna get. It took so long, and we all struggled and fought through so much to get here. Tell me this isn't it."

"This isn't it," Ross replied, pulling her into his arms again to rest her head on his shoulder and rubbing her back soothingly. "It's not. We're going to find Holly, and you and she and Roger will have years together." As his wife cried on his chest and clung to him, Ross held her as tightly as he could and prayed that he wasn't lying to her.

_April 11, 1995, 4:54 AM—Roger and Holly's House and The Wine Cellar concurrently_

Roger clutched Holly's robe tighter around him. All they wanted now was to be married to each other. They finally had that, and someone—and he was convinced that that someone was either Alexandra Spaulding or Josh Lewis—had torn her away from him. They could come at him all they wanted; they had before, and doubtless they would again. Coming at him directly was one thing.

But this time they were coming at him through Holly, and that, he would never abide or forgive.

At least when that psychopath Daniel St. John had had Holly up at Ed Bauer's cabin, intent on marrying her, with a gun to her head, Roger had known where she was and gone after her immediately, not hesitating to face down St. John while Ross waited outside for police backup, even when St. John turned the tables on him and took him prisoner too…

**{{**_"You can let Holly go and still get out of this 'cause you've got another hostage," Roger said._

_ "Who?" St. John wanted to know._

_ "You've got me," Roger informed him firmly. "You can let Holly go. I'll be your insurance. Daniel… If you love her, let her go."_

_ St. John hadn't gone for it. But Roger—with an assist from Holly, who managed to return his Swiss Army knife to him undetected after he had accidentally dropped it beneath the chair to which he was bound with a rope while he was in the process of cutting the rope to get free—had gotten himself loose, and when Roger and Ross had failed to talk St. John into letting Holly go, and he had raised his gun to her temple, Roger dove for the other gun on the floor, aimed at St. John's chest, and fired twice in rapid succession. The force of the bullets slammed him backwards against the door, and Holly, freed from his grasp when he fell, practically hurled herself at the far wall to get away from him._

_ Daniel St. John died there. Roger's shoulder was grazed by a bullet from St. John's gun, which didn't help Holly's hysteria as she tried to tend to him…_

_"Oh, no! You're really bleeding! We have to get you to a doctor!" _

_"The paramedics will be here soon. You're doing just fine."_

_"But what if the bullet is still in there?"_

_"It's not. I was just grazed, honestly. Holly, just sit down and relax. I'll be fine."_

_But she wouldn't sit down and relax. She couldn't. _

_"Oh, God, I should have listened to you!" she exclaimed tearfully as she went to sit on the edge of the bed._

_He left his seat on the hearth, holding onto his wounded shoulder with his good hand, and sat down beside her. "Holly, please, don't blame yourself."_

_"You were right!"_

_"I know. But when have I ever given you much reason to believe me in the past? Please don't blame yourself."_

_"But you __**were**__ right." _

_"Listen, no matter what, things are going to be different now. I mean it. I'm not going to give you any reason to doubt me again." He put his good arm around her shoulders then. "What did it? What set him off?"_

_"He read my diary."_

_"What had you written?"_

_"That I had doubts about marrying him."_

_"That's it? That's all it took?"_

_"And you."_

_"What about me?"_

_"He read what I wrote about you." _

_Ross and Mallet and Harley were all there in the cabin with them by then, talking, but Roger didn't hear a word any of them said, because that was when Holly stopped talking and put her arms around him, and he just held onto her as she clung to him, rubbing her back to try and calm her down, kissing her forehead and her hair, and finally she rested her head on his shoulder as they just sat there holding each other while they waited for the paramedics to arrive._**}}**

He had ended up giving her reason to doubt him again, and because her head and her heart were eternally at war about him back then, and she was still in the deeply ingrained habit of following her head instead of her heart, she had doubted him again, and they went back to working together at WSPR and arguing over Blake and her then-new relationship with Ross, only occasionally behaving counter to the instinct that had Holly always on the defensive around him and Roger the wounded party snarking back at her in reply.

They were past all that now, though. It had taken a few more years, and a lot more drama, but he had made good at last on his promise from that terror-filled night at the Bauer cabin: he finally got to the point where he never gave her reason to doubt him again.

One of the biggest dramas was that fateful 4th of July at Cliff House, when Roger and Ed Bauer had had to team up to save Holly and Michelle from John Davis, and then, in the ultimate irony, Roger had had to pull Ed up over the deck railing to save his life. Had Roger failed, Ed would have fallen to his death on the jagged rocks below. But Roger hadn't failed. He had pulled Ed up and over the railing and saved him.

And after Ed and Michelle returned home to call Maureen in Boston, Roger and Holly were alone at Cliff House. Neither of them had known at the time how prophetic that night would ultimately turn out to be for them and their relationship, but it had.

As Roger thought back to that summer night almost two years ago, Holly, awake again in the wine cellar, was also thinking about that night at Cliff House, the night that started with her still listening to her head, but ended with her following her heart regarding Roger, doing what her heart wanted without being immediately shouted down by her head for once…

**_{{_**_"You must be exhausted," she said._

_"You too," Roger replied._

_"You want to go in there and lie down for a while?"_

_"If I lie down, I may not get up again."_

_"So we could leave in the morning."_

_"You sure you want me to stay?"_

_"Well, I'm in no shape to drive, and you don't look to be either."_

_"I could."_

_"Well, if you'd rather."_

_"I never know what you want."_

_"I'd just as soon not be here alone."_

_"All right."_

_"I'll take the room upstairs."_

_"Holly, it feels like the end of the world."_

_"Why?"_

_He kissed her then, and when he broke the kiss, he said, "You could love me again at the end of the world."_

_When he started to move in closer, she said softly, "Don't."_

_"All right," he agreed, backing up._

_"It can't happen, Roger."_

_"Nobody's watching, Holly. Just you and me."_

_"Not tonight, not ever." But she wasn't vehement about this, the way she had been in the past. _

_"Okay," he replied._

_"Okay, what?" she asked._

_"Okay. That's what you say."_

_"You think I'm a liar?"_

_"No."_

_"What do you think?"_

_"I think it must be very hard to hear yourself talking and yet be thinking, 'This is what I always say. __**Why**__ do I say it?'"_

_He had her there. Holly wouldn't admit it, but he had her there. She made it a habit to listen to her head about Roger, but that didn't stop her heart from still loving him, still wanting him. And if she was really honest with herself, she was getting tired of trying to figure out if her heart was traitorous to feel this way, or if her heart was the part she should be listening to instead of her head. _

_What she said was, "Oh, I see. Holly is all confused and screwed up, that's all it is." She __**was**__ confused, but she wouldn't admit that to Roger, not now._

_"Holly, I don't want to __**do**__ something __**to**__ you. I just want to __**be**__ something __**for**__ you."_

_"And what would you think of me if I __**let**__ you be something?"_

_"That it wasn't for nothing, these last fifteen years. That we know something now that we didn't know before, about kindness, about forgiveness, maybe about love. Angels persist, Holly. Clouds persist. They become showers that become lakes that become clouds again. They persist, as we persist."__**}}**_

Roger was right that night: they **did** persist. They persisted beyond that night, beyond the next morning and its aftermath, beyond the final battle between Holly's head and heart. They persisted all the way to marriage. And they would persist through this ordeal.

**_{{_**_Inside Cliff House, as Roger took off his shoes and Holly gave him an extra pillow, he reflected, "It seems impossibly cruel that nothing done badly and stupidly can ever be undone, that every selfish act is just another bar in the cage I built myself. How could I have destroyed what I loved best, and made the loveliness of it so ugly, even to you?"_

_"Not all of it. Not all of it," she assured him, because not all of it was ugly. The good memories of their early years together were few, but they did exist, and she did remember them._

_"No? Good," he said. "It still shines for me. But you know that, because you were the girl of my dreams. Most men never find theirs."_

_"I'm not sure that had all that much to do with me," she said as she sat down beside him. At that moment, as for the past two decades, she hadn't been sure it had that much to do with her. _

_"Oh," he said, looking into her eyes as he nodded. "Oh yes." The look in his eyes told her clearly that her being the girl of his dreams had everything to do with her. It was the fact that she was the woman she was that made her the girl of his dreams, then, now, and forever._

_"Well, it was a long time ago. I'm nobody's girl anymore."_

_"Maybe that's my doing. Maybe the way I hurt you walled you up and keeps you alone. And that's my tragedy too." He shifted so that he was facing her completely now. "Because I remember you, Holly. The girl of my dreams. When tragedy was just a classroom word. We were all instincts and nerve endings, and all over each other. I remember the white of your back in that sky blue sundress you used to wear…and the way your eyes went all soft before we kissed, and everything you ever told me about your childhood. I __**knew**__ you. I knew your nature. It came as easy to me as talking in my sleep. And most of all, what I remember is the unspeakable sweetness of you. I don't know what other people are like, I live too much in my head. But don't you ever just…remember me? Wasn't there a day, wasn't there ever an hour that you know by heart that you looked at me and just…loved me, and that's all? I remember thinking that you did. And __**no one**__ has ever looked at me that same way since, not like that. Or ever will again, I guess. Not like that."__**}}**_

She had looked at him then, sliding her arm across his shoulders. He looked back at her with a sigh.

And then she leaned in and kissed him. She was tired of fighting it. She **did** remember him, and some part of her still loved him, and the only thing she wanted in that moment was to be with him, to be as close to him as it was humanly possible to be. She had told her head to shut up and gone with her heart and just let herself feel what she was feeling, what she wanted to feel, and it had been wonderful.

There was no hesitation on either her part or his. That was the first time she saw him look into her eyes to make sure that this, that he, was what she really wanted. Assured that it was, they made love, gently, softly, in awe of both each other and the fact that it was happening. Holly felt the reverence with which Roger imbued every kiss, every touch, every movement of his body above, below, and within hers.

For Roger, it was coming home. He had loved Holly for so long that he honestly couldn't remember not loving her. He honestly could not remember a day that had passed since he had realized that she had captured his heart without him thinking about her, wanting her, needing her. He had always hoped against hope that this would happen someday, but he had never truly thought it would outside of his dreams. But this was amazingly, beautifully real. The girl of his dreams was making love with him again. The touch of her hands fired every nerve ending in his skin, her lips were sweeter than his sweetest memories of kissing her, her body fit together with his like they were made for each other, but then weren't they?

He couldn't stop himself from declaring his love for her over and over in the afterglow. Mistake number one, in retrospect.

She really should have known he'd profess his love. Her head decided it had been quiet long enough, so when he did profess his love—several times—she wrapped a blanket around herself and fled to the deck. He followed her...

**_{{_**_"I don't presume to know what you're thinking, Holly, but if it's… Please, please, don't be sorry about this."_

_"I don't remember a time in my life anymore when I __**wasn't**__ sorry. It's just like falling and falling and falling."_

_"Sweetie, you may think right now that maybe you made a mistake, but if you let me, I swear I'll devote the rest of my life to proving that you didn't."_

_"I don't need you to prove anything to me."_

_"What does it matter if I say it? The rest of my life, it's no great prize, but it was always yours. We knew that."__**}}**_

The difference between them that night was that he could admit that the rest of his life was hers. She couldn't…not yet.

So when mistake number two happened the next morning—Roger proposing to Holly—and her head, acting on instinct, went straight into panic and confusion mode and refused to listen to her heart at all, she turned him down, hurting him deeply.

Looking back at it now, one thing Holly and Roger both felt was that they weren't ready then to be together, much less married. After that night, Holly was just starting to admit to herself that she really did want to be with Roger. She still had to tell her head to shut up and stay that way and learn to follow her heart without fear. For his part, Roger wanted to be with Holly then, and could admit it, but he was not yet ready to sustain a relationship with her that would continue growing and evolving and thriving over the rest of their lives.

But five months later, on Christmas night, when the weak and wounded Roger collapsed at Holly's feet in this very house with a bullet lodged in his chest, they began the process of catching the clock at last, after all they had been through over all the years. Roger summoned up that night now, starting with Holly's initially speechless shock and distress at the sight of him there in her living room…

**_{{_**_"Merry Christmas, Holly." She looked at him, stunned, as she got to her feet by her Christmas tree. "You really shouldn't leave your Christmas tree lying around without water. It's a fire hazard. Oh, I, uh, dug into your takeout Christmas dinner you had delivered. I'm sorry, but I was hungry."_

_"Where did you come from?" she asked, recovering the power of speech._

_"Don't worry. I'm not a ghost. No thanks to whoever did this. I meant to be gone by now, I overheard you say you were going to a concert."_

_"You heard me?"_

_"Didn't I always tell you, Holly, you'd never get rid of me?" _

_Then he had pitched forward and collapsed by the fire._

_She had fallen to her knees beside him instantly. "Roger, come on. You're in bad shape. I'm gonna get a doctor."_

_"No! No, don't!" he exclaimed. _

_She helped him sit up. "I can't take care of you! Look at you. You're so weak." She helped him to his feet and over to the couch. "Come on."_

_"I'm okay." She scoffed at this. "I've been taking care of the wound. I'm just hungry, that's all."_

_She helped him sit on the couch. "This is crazy." She started to move toward the kitchen. "I'll get you something to eat."_

_He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. "Listen, don't call anybody, you understand?"_

_"No," she said, sitting down beside him, "I don't. I don't understand anything."_

_But she had gone along with his wishes, and she had doctored his chest wound the best she could. "You mean the bullet's still in you?" she asked, horrified. "Oh, Roger. You've got to have a doctor."_

_"Not until I find out who did this."_

_"Can't you just leave all the detective work to the police?" She taped a gauze pad over the bullet hole. _

_"No, because for one thing, if they find me, they'll arrest me for disobeying a court order to show up at the hearing."_

_"They're gonna understand about that."_

_"Yeah, well, first they'll arrest me. By the time they understand, it'll be too late, because it'll give whoever did this a chance to try again."__**}}**_

While Roger was recalling the way Holly took care of him after he finally revealed himself to her, Holly was back on the Jessup farm after Bridget Reardon had taken her to Roger, who was hiding out there, his condition getting weaker and worse by the minute…

**_{{_**_"There's a knife on that table. I want you to clean it with this alcohol. Holly…The bullet's still in me. It's gotta come out, and there's no one I can trust to do it but you."_

_"I can't do it, Roger! Come on now. I haven't survived through everything just to watch you die now!"_

_He put his hand under her chin, keeping it there as she met his gaze. "Holly, I have no intention whatsoever of dying." He jerked upright then. "There's somebody out there."_

_"No, you're hearing things, Roger. You don't know how sick you are. Please let me take you to the hospital. I'll get you a guard. You'll be safe." _

_She helped him lie back down, but he was so convinced he had heard somebody outside that he grabbed the gun lying at his side and trained it on the open doorway…where Eve Guthrie now stood._

_"You followed me here?" Holly asked._

_"Yes," Eve replied._

_"Why?" Holly wanted to know._

_Roger interjected then, "Have you got your medical bag?"_

_"No, I don't. Holly will be quick to tell you I'm not allowed to treat patients anymore."_

_"Well, you're gonna treat me. Come on, Holly, give her the knife. She'll sterilize it."_

_"Oh, Roger, no."_

_"That's right, Holly. You don't like me to have weapons, do you? As a matter of fact, she accused me of stealing a gun from her house. I don't suppose that's the gun, is it?" Eve gestured to the gun Roger was holding._

_"Would you stop playing games? He's really in bad shape!" Holly pleaded._

_"I'm not playing games. I'm being threatened here!" Eve retorted._

_"All right, all right, I am not threatening," Roger said, laying the gun down. The movement tore an agonized groan from him, and Holly felt it in her own body. "I'm asking," Roger continued, breathless from both pain and exertion. "I need your help."_

_Eve knelt beside Roger and began checking him over as Holly grimaced in the background, her hand covering her mouth. "Easy," Eve said, rolling Roger onto his side. He groaned again as she probed his upper back. "There's no exit wound."_

_"That's right. The bullet's still in me. It's gotta come out."_

_"Roger, she's got no instruments, no anesthesia, no nothing," Holly pointed out._

_"I've performed surgery in a lot worse conditions than this," Eve said. "But the truth of the matter is that you __**should**__ go to the hospital. Look, I can take this bullet out, and it __**should**__ come out, but it could be a lot more damaging if I do it here than at the hospital."_

_"I want you to take this bullet out now," Roger panted. _

_"He's not gonna go to the hospital," Holly informed Eve. "What's gonna happen if we wait?"_

_"It's pretty simple. His wound infection's gonna spread and it could kill him." Roger groaned again._

_"Okay, then, you've got no choice. You've got to do it," Holly said. "Can you do what he wants you to do?"_

_"I have done this so many times, Holly, without the benefit of kitchen utensils or even boiling water. So you understand that I __**can**__ do it. But the question is, why would I __**want**__ to do anything for either one of you?"_

_In the end, Eve had honored her Hippocratic Oath and removed the bullet from Roger's chest with the knife. Holly had held a kerosene lamp for Eve to see by in one hand, and had held Roger's hand with the other. Roger gritted his teeth, bit out moans of pain at the feel of the knife, and gripped Holly's hand as tightly as he could without breaking it as Eve dug the bullet out of him.__**}}**_

Holly remembered the way Eve had relished informing her that she would have the charges against Eve dismissed, and that she and Blake would both testify on Eve's behalf to get her reinstated at Cedars, and that if Eve could think of anything else, she would let Holly know, because Holly owed her big time for removing the bullet from Roger's chest.

What Eve was too busy gloating to fully comprehend was that Holly would have given the insufferable doctor the moon if she'd asked for it. Impossibility be damned, Holly would have found a way. She would have done whatever it took to get Eve to take that bullet out.

After Eve had informed Holly what she expected of her in return for the emergency surgery on Roger and had given Holly instructions on taking care of him and told her again to try and convince him to go to the hospital, she had finally left…hightailing it back to Springfield, where she immediately blabbed to Rick, Ed, Maureen, Ross and Blake that Holly and Roger were hiding at the Jessup farm, and that she had removed the bullet from Roger's chest. Ed, of course, had insisted on calling the police right away, which sent Holly and Roger rushing into the cold, dark January night, through the arctic river, and into the woods.

Somewhere between holding Roger's hand by lamplight while Eve operated on him without benefit of surgical instruments or anesthetic and wading through that half-frozen river, Holly's heart told her brain to shut up once and for all, because from now on, her heart was in charge. Roger could have died, and they weren't out of the woods yet…literally. She could not fathom her world without him, but more than that, she didn't want to try to fathom her world without him. Nothing mattered now but being together. The rest was just excuses that no longer held any weight with her. That was the night Holly knew that she would be with Roger from then on, that it was the two of them against the world, and that she was just fine with that.

Feeling drowsy again, Holly let her eyes drift shut. She and Roger had come so far and overcome so much to be together. They would prevail through this too. No matter what it took, they would get through this too.

Meanwhile, at home, Roger was back in the woods with Holly, running from the police after leaving the Jessup farm. That was the first time he thought they might just have a chance at a life together, because never before in their history together had she ever stood by him so completely and unwaveringly without a second of doubt or hesitation, refusing to leave him even when he tried to send her away for her own good…

**{{**_"There's the car. You take it, you go back to the farm, tell the police that I held you at gunpoint."_

_"I don't think that's a good idea!"_

_"Holly, they'll believe you. They know that I have a gun."_

_"Roger, we wade half a mile through the river and I'm gonna jump into a car and drive away?"_

_"It's the responsible thing to do."_

_"To leave you here alone to freeze? No! I don't think so!" He stroked her hair then, his aching chest swelling with both love for her and no small amount of awe at the fact that she absolutely refused to leave him now. "Besides, we lost them! That's why we did that!"_

_"Holly, listen to me. I'm grateful for you helping me, but I don't want you caught with me."_

_"I don't __**need**__ an out. I don't __**want**__ one."__**}}**_

Holly meant it when she said she didn't need or want an out. And she wasn't just talking about that night. She was talking about the rest of their lives from that moment on. With the police bearing down on them, most of the town wanting him dead and Billy Lewis having tried his level best to accomplish that very thing, at the moment that the whole world was out to get him even though he had already lost everything—Spaulding Enterprises, the Spaulding Mansion, Hart, Jenna's baby, and his freedom might very well be the next thing he lost—Holly, the only woman he had ever loved or ever would love, the woman he wanted to be with with every fiber of his being, never truly believing that would happen again, crossed the last line in the sand, stood beside him, and faced down the rest of the world, declaring to them all with that action, as she would time and again with similar actions and words in the following months and years, that she was standing with him, and if that meant standing against the rest of them for the rest of her life, so be it. She didn't care what they thought anymore. She wanted to be with him, and she would be with him, no matter what.

He had once wondered how he would go on with his life after losing everything he lost before he was shot.

Well, he knew now that he could live without all of that.

But he couldn't live without Holly. He hadn't really been living until they had started over again. He had just been existing, his life empty and meaningless, and the money, the power, control of an international conglomerate, other women, none of it brought him the least little bit of happiness or fulfillment.

Being Holly's husband, Chrissy's father, Peter's grandfather, that was where true happiness and fulfillment lay, and it was his marriage to Holly that was the foundation of his life, for she was everything to him. She was the center of his universe, the beat of his heart, the reason he woke up in the morning.

Life without her was no life at all. He had felt that way long before they got back together. After the last sixteen months of building a life with her, the last almost four of them married to her, he knew there would never be another truth in his life as profound as this.

Looking down at her robe draped across his torso, he remembered the last fight they had about his pursuit of Spaulding Enterprises, when Holly had told him exactly why him spending so much time with Alexandra bothered her so much. She had been wearing the robe while they had that conversation, and he could see her in his mind's eye as she was that afternoon, as she sat beside him and finally told him what it was that made her so unhappy and insecure about him going after Spaulding again…

**_{{_**_"I read everything that was printed about you and Alex, and then I tried to forget it, and I just wanted to hate you. And then, you remember Acapulco. Alex and I thought we'd trap you, and I thought I could pretend to seduce you without…" She trailed off, reaching out to stroke his hair, then letting her hand cup his cheek. "And that's when I saw how I loved you, and that I would always love you, because I saw something so good and so sweet in you. I'm sure I was the only person in the world who could see it," she smiled here, "but I knew it was there, and I knew it was true." Then she grew serious. "And it's taken so long for me to build trust because every time I start to let down my guard, you do something that makes me doubt my sanity, my instincts. Of course, what really puzzles me is I'm not sure if that isn't what draws me to you or… But what I do know is that every time I see you and Alex together, it reminds me of all of that stuff, when I thought you and I were just…gone, we were just lost to each other forever. And I try to tell myself that's silly, but it cut me deeply…and it still hurts."__**}}**_

His mind was irrevocably made up in that instant. He could live without Spaulding Enterprises, but he could not live without Holly. He refused to take the slightest chance that he could lose her again. And a few hours after that, when Alexandra had barged into their bedroom while they were in bed together, demanding that he help her thwart Alan's latest ploy to regain the CEO chair at Spaulding, Roger had firmly and with absolute certainty told her that he was done. He would no longer be involved with Spaulding Enterprises or Alex or Alan in any way, shape, or form. Holly had been surprised, and amazed, but she had never doubted his certainty about his decision. She had known that he chose her, chose them, because that, and not control of Spaulding, was what he wanted most in life.

His thoughts were interrupted by the blaring of the alarm clock then. He never remembered to set it, so Holly always set it before leaving for work, since it was a digital clock with the ability to indicate the exact hour and minute, AM or PM, the alarm should ring. She had obviously set the clock for this morning before leaving the house yesterday.

He slapped the clock silent, noting the time: 7:02 AM. He reached for the phone, punched in the _Journal_'s number, and informed the intern who answered to tell Fletcher Reade to tear out the front page, because the former publisher, current station manager and co-owner of WSPR, Holly Lindsey-Thorpe had been kidnapped last night from the television station parking lot. He managed to keep his voice even throughout his brief conversation.

After hanging up the phone, he brought Holly's robe up to his face again, rubbing it against his cheek to feel the smooth satin and inhaling again the scent of her that clung to the garment as he did so.

She would wear this robe again, he vowed. She would come back to him, and soon. This would not be all that was left him. It **wouldn't **be**.** It **couldn't **be.


	11. The Searchers

_**Special thanks to my collaborator Mendys for all her help with this chapter! **_

_April 11, 1995, 7:43 AM—Springfield Police Department_

"Look, I understand that the information is sensitive, but can you at least confirm whether the person in question is still on the grid? I don't know, isn't that what you people use to... Right, okay. Well, if the assignment ends early, could you please give-" Realizing she was talking to dead air, Faith rolled her eyes and hung up the phone. More frustrated by the moment, she checked off another name on the list.

"Faith?"

She looked up to see Ross Marler standing in front of her desk, his coat slung over his arm.

"Ross!" She stood up, gesturing to him to have a seat beside her desk. After squeezing her arm in greeting, he took that seat. "Is it too much to hope you're coming to tell us that whatever happened last night was a colossal misunderstanding and Holly's home right now?"

"I'm afraid so," Ross replied, taking a look at the clock on her desk. "Have you been here all night?"

"No, of course not." Faith reassured him. "Just since four. I've got an early shift. It was just bad luck I ran the forensics last night. AJ called my extension instead of the 4SPD line to report Holly's disappearance. How's Blake doing?"

"Not well," Ross replied. "I came to talk to Detective Cutter. I thought he might find me a bit easier to deal with than he would find either Roger or Blake right now. Not that I can blame either of them, given the circumstances, but I think I can manage to give the police the credit they're due while running this investigation."

"We did get the forensics report back," Faith informed Ross. "The only prints on the car were Holly's and Roger's. There was no blood anywhere in, or, or around the car. I know that all of the Lewises and Spauldings, and Jenna Bradshaw Cooper, are going to be interviewed, or interviewed again as the case may be, today. Given the fact that I shouldn't be interviewing basically any person of interest in this case, they've got me running down Roger's CIA contacts. I don't think I've actually talked to a real live person yet. Some of them don't exist, some of them are dead, and some of them are on assignment. If you could get some more names from Roger, it might help. I know he'll think it's a waste of time, since he's determined it was a Spaulding or a Lewis who did this, but that's what I was told to do."

"And Roger would respond better to the request from me." Ross nodded, following along. "I'll pass it along to him. In fact, it'd probably be better if I acted as go-between. Blake has a bit more respect for police procedure than Roger does, but they're both very afraid for Holly right now."

"Give them my regards. We will find Holly, Ross."

Ross studied her for a moment before deciding to simply bite the bullet. "You're right in that Roger is determined it was one of the Spauldings or the Lewises. What are your thoughts on the matter?"

"My thoughts on the matter are immaterial to the investigation." Faith replied. "I know Roger's got it in for Alexandra and she's been having a hard time lately. You were there on Valentine's Day."

"She did seem extremely off-kilter," Ross responded cautiously, lowering his voice. "I haven't seen much of her since then. How's she seemed to you?"

Sighing, Faith leaned back in her chair. "I haven't seen much of her since then myself. Dad took over as CEO and named her Chief of Operations, which is far less stressful for her. I heard from Mom that Fletcher moved out with Ben, but they have been talking almost nightly on the phone. She apparently hasn't really been ranting much about Roger, and she seems to have accepted that Nick let WSPR go." She shrugged. "I really don't know, Ross. Do I think she's holding in a lot? Maybe. Do I also think Roger wants it to be her so he can finally nail her? Yes. And I also know that Roger's got the Lewises in his crosshairs. Josh has Marah and Shayne to consider. He wouldn't do something this outrageous when it'll spill over and affect them. And my father already lost five years of his life to Roger. Whether he enjoys seeing Roger squirm when he hears about this is between him and his conscience, but he wouldn't risk losing more time away from us."

"But the law of logic tells us that it could have been any one of them." Ross reminded her gently.

"I know, which is probably why it's a good idea I'm making these calls right now."

"Good morning, Springfield's finest."

Both of them looked up to see Fletcher Reade approaching them at a fast clip, ignoring the annoyed glares thrown his way as he made his way through the sea of blue uniforms in his path.

"You're up and about early, Fletcher," Faith observed, sneaking a glance around. Taking a break to talk to Ross was fine, but she really needed to get back on the phone with the CIA contacts.

"Just thought you deserved fair warning that Roger the Dodger is also up and about early. Is it true that Holly was kidnapped last night?"

"Dammit!" Faith pounded her hand on her desk. If Roger was already spreading the word, there went the element of surprise for the department when they started knocking on doors today. "When did you hear from him?"

"Not even an hour ago. I tried calling your press liaison, even told them I had it straight from Roger, but got nowhere. I'm just doing my civic duty letting you fine people know that word's already spreading."

Ross was already on his feet, putting his coat on. "Roger's heart, for once, is in the right place and he's probably not making the best decisions right now. I'll see what I can do to contain the damage."

"**COOPER!**"

Faith, Fletcher, and Ross, not to mention every police officer, member of support personnel and maintenance worker unlucky enough to be in the room, froze at the sound of Detective Cutter's angry voice. Across the room, Frank Cooper stepped forward. He obviously had been expecting this explosion and barely flinched as Cutter made a straight path over to him, invading his personal space.

"You want to explain to me how your entire family already knows about Holly Thorpe's disappearance last night?" he demanded in a low voice.

"It was AJ Chamberlain." Frank replied immediately. "He talked to Jenna and she told my father."

"Oh, brother." Faith rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Cutter! AJ Chamberlain called in from the scene last night. He's the one who made the original report."

"Terrific!" Cutter exclaimed sarcastically. "So that means all of the Chamberlains and the Coopers know." Then Cutter noticed Fletcher and Ross standing there. "What did Thorpe do, hire a publicist?" he asked.

"I don't know about that, Detective Cutter, but he did call the _Journal _less than an hour ago," Fletcher replied.

"And since Holly was taken from WSPR's parking lot, everyone there who didn't know about it last night will know today," Ross added.

Cutter sighed. "We have to start questioning people before this is all over the 12:00 news. Cooper, you and Metzger talk to the Lewises. Levy, you and Crawford interview the Spauldings and the Chamberlains, including Jenna Bradshaw Cooper. Spaulding—"

"I'm still running down Roger's CIA contacts," Faith interjected. "Actually, it may be a long shot, but if we're looking at all of Roger's enemies, there's one person I thought of who hasn't come up yet."

"Who?" Cutter and Ross asked in unison.

"Rita Stapleton," Faith said.

"Never heard of her," Cutter said.

""That's because she's been gone from Springfield for a long time," Faith replied. "She was married to my Uncle Ed over 20 years ago, but she was involved with Roger, who went off the rails and raped her before he raped Holly. She had to take care of Blake with Uncle Ed after Holly went to prison for shooting Roger, and their marriage sort of broke down after that. It's all a pretty big mess. My mother once told me Rita blamed Holly for her not being able to work things out with Uncle Ed, but I think the affair Rita had with my father had a little to do with that as well."

Cutter just stared at Faith. "And exactly what sort of family event calls for sitting down and talking about **that** kind of history?"

"I was a teenager when Roger returned to town, and I got mixed up with him when he was pretending to be Adam Malik," Faith said. "My parents wanted me to know exactly what kind of man Roger Thorpe was, so they sat me down and told me his entire sordid history with my family, including Uncle Ed. Rita may be a long shot, but she **is** someone who has very good reason to hate Roger and Holly both."

"All right," Cutter agreed. "Track down this Rita Stapleton, and keep going on those CIA contacts." Cutter then looked to Frank, Levy, Metzger, and Crawford. "You four take care of those interviews. We'll meet back here this afternoon to go over what we have." He turned his attention to Ross then. "Has your father-in-law received a ransom demand yet?" he asked.

"Not to my knowledge," Ross replied. "But I'll ask him and make sure."

Faith's heart sank. The lack of a ransom demand could mean that whoever took Holly wasn't intending to let her go safely. "Let us know as soon as you have answers on the ransom demand and the CIA contacts," Faith said.

"I will," Ross promised. Then the small crowd dispersed, Ross heading out to the hall to call Blake at Roger and Holly's house, Cutter heading back to his office, the other police officers heading out to conduct their interviews, Fletcher heading back to the _Journal_, and Faith reclaiming her seat at her desk to continue the business of calling Roger's CIA contacts and tracking down Rita Stapleton.

_April 11, 1995, 8:02 AM—Wine Cellar_

After a long night spent alternating between snatches of fitful dozing and lying awake thinking of Roger and Blake and how far her relationships with both of them had come, Holly was finally sleeping more soundly than she had all night. She was dreaming of the morning after Valentine's Day last year, when Roger was finally a free man because Alex had dropped the charges, and Billy Lewis was in jail where he couldn't come after Roger anymore, and the future stretched ahead of them, waiting for them to make what they wanted of it at last. They were lying in bed talking after having made love for the first time in seven months, and for the first time since getting back together…

**_{{_**_"There was a long time, after I lost you, when I just couldn't listen to the radio at all 'cause every song seemed to laugh in my face or give me some sort of moral about why I had failed, you know? But there was this one song: 'Our Day Will Come.'" Roger gave her a boyish smile. "Do you remember that?"_

_"Oh, no," she said, finding it funny that of all the songs in the world, it was that one that spoke to him._

_"I swear it."_

_She smiled back at him, propping her head on her hand to look at him. "Oh, yeah," she answered his question about whether she remembered it, "very sentimental, lots of strings?"_

_"Yeah, that's the one," he replied. _

_"'Our day will come,'" she sang quietly._

_He leaned down and kissed her then before continuing. "Yeah, it was a very schmaltzy song, pure glitz, but I went right out to the record store and I bought it. Listened to that song. It was my dark secret, my drug, my secret vice. I wanted it to become an incantation. I…I thought somehow that if I listened to those words and played those words enough that they'd evolve into a kind of magic, you know? A kind of spell that would find you wherever you were and will you back to me."_

_"Well, it only took ten or twelve years. These things take time." She looked at him tenderly then. "I can't believe this myself. I mean, I dreamed about it so many times, I keep wondering if this is one of those dreams."_

_He was thunderstruck. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. You dreamed about __**me**__?"_

_"Oh, God, yeah, countless times. I'll tell you about my one recurring dream. I would be alone somewhere and feeling sad. I was looking for something, and you would show up and ask if you could help me. And it was so hard for me to say yes, it took so long, that by the time I said it, you weren't there anymore. Nobody was there."_

_"Well, somebody's here now, and he will be for as long as you'll have him."_

_They shared another smile, and then she moved in for a kiss, her arms going around his neck as he pulled her against him, holding her close…__**}}**_

She was jolted awake then by banging and crashing sounds from upstairs, and loud, unfamiliar voices talking about bricks and mortar.

Alexandra's workmen had arrived. They were going to start building the wall today.

She sat up and checked her watch: a few minutes after 8 AM. She got to her feet and was pleased to note that her dizziness and headache were gone. She made her way over to one of the shelves that held a few bottles of wine and picked one up. Now, how to open it without a corkscrew… She looked at the bottle consideringly for a moment, then peeled the foil from the top before whacking the bottom of the bottle against the wall. She heard the hiss of air on the fifth whack, and upon closer inspection, saw that the cork had been displaced enough that she could twist it out the rest of the way.

Her sense of triumph was short-lived, however, once she got a taste of the wine. It didn't taste like wine at all, but like vinegar. It had obviously been down here for so long that it had turned. She grimaced, forcing herself to swallow the mouthful she had ingested.

She put the bottle back on the shelf, and looked around the wine cellar again, making a conscious effort to ignore how hungry she was, since there was no food to be had until she got out of here. Judging by the noises she was hearing now, the workmen were starting to seal up the main entrance, which Alexandra had locked when she left the night before anyway. Her search the night before had revealed no hidden passage in the wall.

That left the floor. And since this was a Spaulding-built bomb shelter/wine cellar, Holly was convinced that some other way out, some secret door, was built into the floor somewhere.

Her mind would not let her think anything else, because she had no intention of dying in this wine cellar prison.

Her course of action resolved, Holly unbuttoned her cuffs, rolled up her sleeves, and starting along the far wall, she knelt down and began feeling along every inch of the floor, pressing with her fingers to try and find some sort of hidden catch that would reveal a way to freedom.

_April 11, 1995, 8:08 AM—Roger and Holly's House_

Fortified by aspirin, sunglasses to keep out the early-morning glare of the too-bright spring sunshine, and her second extra-large black coffee (and carrying a cardboard tray containing a coffee for her father), Blake unlocked her parents' front door and stepped into their house. The living room was deserted but clean, and the only kitchen mess was the dishes in the sink that she recognized from last night: the glasses she and Roger had used for their drinks, and the plate, knife, and coffee mug Ross had used for his sandwich and cup of coffee.

Relieved that her father hadn't trashed the house in his agony, Blake set both coffees on the kitchen table and went in search of her father. A peek in the guest room door showed it was empty. _Of course he slept in his and Mom's bed_, she thought as she opened their bedroom door. _If he got any sleep at all. _Blake herself had only managed about three hours; she and Ross had awakened on the couch together at 6:40, she determined to power through the slight hangover she had from last night, and Ross anxious to check in with the police, reasoning that since he was the only one who hadn't gotten mad at them last night, what with Roger's threat to do their job for them if they didn't find Holly immediately and Blake vowing to be a bigger pain in the entire department's ass than she was after Roger had been shot over a year ago, he might get farther with them, and promising to call her at Holly and Roger's house the second he had any kind of update.

The sight that met Blake's eyes broke her heart: Roger was curled up in a fetal position on his side of the bed, clutching Holly's robe to his chest with one hand, his other arm stretched out to her empty side of their bed, his hand resting on her pillow, his emotional pain palpable on his face, proving this obviously was not a restful sleep for him. Blake had seen both of her parents at some very low points in their individual lives, but she had never seen her father look so broken and vulnerable as he looked right then.

She approached him carefully. "Dad?" she said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Daddy?"

Roger awakened instantly, jackknifing to a sitting position, still holding Holly's robe. He looked at her and blinked. "Chrissy." He looked at the alarm clock, noting that it was ten minutes after eight. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"About three hours," she replied. She noted the tired lines on his face and his bloodshot eyes. "How much did you get?"

Roger lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I fell asleep at 8:00."

Now Blake looked at the alarm clock. "Oh, Daddy. Ten minutes' sleep?" She could understand it, though. She wouldn't have managed the little bit of sleep she had gotten if Ross hadn't been holding her the whole time.

"I'll be all right," Roger insisted. He folded Holly's robe and gently laid it at the foot of the bed, then got up and hugged Blake.

"I brought you coffee, it's in the kitchen," Blake told him as she held on to him. "And Ross is at the police station. He's going to call us here as soon as he knows something."

Roger found himself feeling grateful to Ross again. Ross spoke Detective Cutter's language. Ross would surely get farther than Roger would, because Ross, being a lawyer, would observe the professional niceties Cutter expected. Roger would let Ross have a go at the police now, because he could always run in there later demanding answers, and to hell with protocol, procedure, and professional niceties.

At the kitchen table, Roger gratefully accepted the coffee Blake had brought him. "How are you feeling?" he asked as they each sipped their coffee.

"I've had aspirin and lots of water, and now the coffee. This is my second cup." She held up her cup.

"Good," Roger said. He fidgeted a bit as he looked at his watch. "I'm just going to take a quick shower, wake up a bit more," he said.

"I'll wait for Ross's phone call," Blake replied.

He hurried through his shower, didn't waste time shaving, and Chrissy was hanging up the phone when he returned to the living room. "Was that Ross?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes," she replied. "They're questioning people now, and yes, they're starting with the Spauldings and the Lewises."

"A lot of good questioning Alex will do if Faith is the one asking the questions," Roger grumbled.

"Faith is staying at the station. Apparently she's been ordered to stay out of the Spaulding and Lewis angles of the investigation. Ross said she's looking into your CIA years," Blake told him.

"Well, at least that'll keep her occupied," Roger said.

"You don't think it's somebody from back then," Blake replied. It was a statement, not a question.

"No, I don't," he said. "I think it was either Alex or Josh Lewis."

"Detective Cutter told Ross to ask you if there'd been a ransom demand yet," Blake continued. "I told Ross I was sure there hadn't, because you would have said something, but…" She trailed off when she saw the turbulent expression on her father's face.

"They're wasting time on ransom demands and my years in the Agency!" Roger exclaimed. "That's it! I told them I would give them one chance to find her. They had their chance, and they've blown it!" He disappeared down the hall then, puzzling Blake, and returned with two flashlights.

"What are those for?" Blake asked.

"If it's Alex, she might have stashed your mother in one of the Spaulding warehouses down by the river. I plan on searching them," Roger replied. He held out a flashlight to Blake. "Care to join me?"

"Absolutely," Blake said, draining her coffee and then taking the flashlight from him. "You might be onto something, Dad." Blake wasn't as quick to automatically assume that Alexandra was behind Holly's disappearance as Roger was, at least not without proof—between Roger's history with the police and Blake being with Ross as long as she had, she was a firm believer in "innocent until proven guilty"—but she was in total agreement with her father that Alexandra was definitely a likely suspect, and as B-movie as it may have sounded, a warehouse by the river was the perfect place to stash a kidnapped person. "Since I'm blocking you in, should we just take my car?"

"Yes, unlike Springfield's finest, I don't want to waste any time," Roger agreed. He settled himself in the passenger seat as Blake put the key in the ignition, and then they sped off to the warehouses.

It was another silent drive. Roger rubbed at his chest. An ever-growing boulder was sitting right in the middle of it. He had tried to do the right thing by giving the police a chance, but instead of actively looking, or even concentrating their questioning on the two people who he had helpfully pointed out had the most reason to have done this, they were wasting their time talking to the CIA and asking about ransom demands. Neither Alexandra Spaulding nor Josh Lewis would make a ransom demand of him, because this was not about money. No, this was about revenge, plain and simple. Whichever of them had done this had done it for one reason only: to make him suffer. They didn't want his money. They wanted his agony, and they had found the best way to ensure that he was feeling the most excruciating agony possible by taking Holly.

Blake parked the car in front of the warehouses, four buildings adjacent to one another on the east edge of the river. "Do we split up or stay together?" she asked, willing to follow his lead on this.

Roger considered for a brief moment. "Stay together," he said. "It'll take longer to search all of the warehouses, but two pairs of eyes are better than one, and that way we'll be assured of a thorough search."

Blake hefted her flashlight. "Let's get started," she said as they headed for the back door of the first warehouse. Roger picked the lock, and once they were inside, they began slowly making their way through the building, searching for Holly.

_April 11, 1995, 8:44 AM—Ed and Maureen's House_

Ed and Maureen sat in silence at the kitchen table. Nola had just called them with the news that Holly had been kidnapped from the parking lot at WSPR last night. AJ had literally run into her as she was leaving, but she had never made it home, and when Blake had called the station looking for Holly, AJ had found her car in the parking lot with the driver's side door open and her purse and keys on the ground beside it, but no sign of her anywhere.

A knock came at the kitchen door then, and Ed got up to answer it. It was Ross. Ross took one look at Ed and Maureen as Ed let him in and said simply, "You've heard."

"Nola just called to tell us a few minutes ago," Ed replied.

"How is Blake holding up? And Roger?" Maureen asked worriedly.

"They're both devastated and terrified, as you'd expect," Ross replied, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee from Ed.

"I'm surprised Roger hasn't launched full-scale retaliation against the entire town of Springfield yet," Ed remarked.

"What do you think he's going to do, Ed?" Maureen asked, exasperated.

"I don't know," Ed replied. "The burning of Atlanta comes to mind."

"Roger's not focused on anything like arson now," Ross said, setting his mug on the Bauers' kitchen table.

Ed snorted. "I find that hard to believe."

"You didn't see him last night, Ed. I did," Ross went on. "He did warn the police he'd give them one chance to find Holly and then he'd take over, but after we left WSPR, he was silent. He wouldn't eat, he barely spoke. He wasn't trashing the house or getting roaring drunk or heading off to immediately destroy his enemies, although he does have it in his head that either Alexandra Spaulding or Josh Lewis is ultimately responsible for Holly's disappearance."

"Great, that's the last thing Alex needs: more trouble with Roger Thorpe!" Ed said angrily.

"Going after Alex, or Josh, or anyone is not what Roger's thinking about right now," Ross insisted. "His entire focus is on Holly and finding her."

"And once she's safe, God only knows what he'll do, if he doesn't snap before then," Ed warned.

"His wife has been kidnapped. I think you could cut him a little slack," Maureen said.

"Never," Ed asserted. "I know all too well that Roger is capable of anything. Blake has my sympathy. And Holly certainly didn't deserve for this to happen to her, but sadly, this makes all too much sense. Roger causes damage to everyone he's near if they're around him long enough, and Holly's finally paying the price for being with him, as if she hasn't already paid enough."

"Roger didn't put a gun to Holly's head to force her to marry him, Ed," Maureen pointed out.

"Maureen's right," Ross piped up. "I was there. In fact, getting married when they did was all Holly's idea. And as hard as it is for you to believe, since she married Roger, Holly truly is happier than I've ever seen her in all the time I've known her."

"And look where it's gotten her!" Ed exclaimed.

"We can all agree that we're worried about Holly, and about Blake," Maureen cut in then. "As Roger's friend, I'm worried about him too. I can't even imagine the hell he must be going through right now. But laying blame isn't going to do anyone any good." She looked to Ross then. "Is there anything we can do to help, Ross?"

"Just be there for Blake," Ross replied. He looked at Ed. "Don't take any digs at Roger if you see him." His gaze then encompassed both Bauers. "And say a prayer that wherever Holly is right now, she is found and brought home safely soon."

_April 11, 1995, 10:07 AM—The Spaulding Mansion_

Alexandra watched with supreme satisfaction as the workmen built the brick wall in front of the door of the wine cellar. It had taken years, but Roger was finally going to suffer for all the sins he had committed against her, her family, the company. This would finally wipe the smug, self-satisfied look off his face once and for all. He would know at last how she had felt when she had returned from her year in the East in search of serenity to find her family scattered—what with Alan still in prison, Nick shacking up with Mindy, Alan-Michael living on the yacht, Faith in her own apartment, and Hope having returned to the condo she had bought for herself and Faith after Alex had married Roger and kept even after she and Faith had returned to the mansion following their divorce—and Roger having taken over everything belonging to her and her family…

**_{{_**_"I don't believe this," Alexandra said. _

_"Well, your belief or disbelief is pretty inconsequential at this stage of the game," Roger replied._

_"I saw the sign, Roger! It's still there, bigger than life, looming over the skyline as I came in on the bus!"_

_"Wait a minute, you took the bus back to Springfield?" Roger asked incredulously._

_Alexandra ignored him to continue. "There it was, like some beacon of light welcoming me home: Spaulding Enterprises, just lighting up the sky!"_

_"Well, we kept the name. You know, it still carries a little weight with what's left of the old boy network," Roger said. "Party's over, Alex. All your old boys have failed you. Your young boys, too; Nick and Alan-Michael, they didn't put up much of a fight. I'll tell you the truth, taking over Spaulding was a cakewalk without you around."_

_"You're lying!" she exclaimed._

_"Am I?" Roger opened a drawer, removed some newspapers, and carried them over to the desk. "Extra, extra, read all about it!" He slammed the newspapers down on the desk, and she walked over to look at them. "You did your best to bury me, but didn't I always tell you I've got nine lives? I came back. I came back scratching and clawing, and this time I got it all, I got everything. And you know what you got? You got nothing. You got zip, except for some lousy title nobody remembers from some discount baron from Lord knows where and the clothes on your back. You've got no house, you've got no company, you've got no money, you've got no family worth talking about. So I want you to humor me and tell me something out of my own curiosity: how does it feel to come back from the grave only to find out that you're actually dead?"__**}}**_

Yes, he would pay for taking her family's livelihood and legacy away from them all. He would pay dearly and forever for it now. Brandon Spaulding would be proud of his only daughter.

Her reverie was interrupted by Ginger bustling in and announcing that Mr. Reade was waiting to see her in the library.

Any other time, Alexandra would have welcomed a surprise visit from Fletcher. But today, she was glad to have the mansion to herself, except for the workmen. She left said workmen to their bricklaying and went to the library to see Fletcher.

"Fletcher, what a wonderful surprise!" she exclaimed as she swept into the library, trying to remain nonchalant. No one knew the workmen were here except her. She wanted it to stay that way.

Before Fletcher could reply, they heard a loud crash, followed by some very colorful swearing. "What's going on back there?" Fletcher asked, gesturing in the direction of the noise.

"Just some workmen," Alexandra replied airily. "Would you like some lunch?"

"It's 10:15 in the morning, Alex," Fletcher replied. He tilted his head, wondering what was going on with her. She seemed off to him somehow.

"Brunch?" she suggested.

"No thanks," he said. "I'm chasing a big story, and I thought I'd drop in for a few minutes and say hello before I head out again for more fact-finding."

"A big story, how exciting," Alex said as she sat on the couch and motioned for him to sit with her. "What big story?"

"You mean you really don't know?" Fletcher asked, surprised. "Holly was kidnapped last night."

"Really?" Alex replied, doing her best to look appropriately shocked.

"Snatched right from the parking lot at WSPR," Fletcher continued. He knew Alex well enough to know that something was up with her, but he had no idea what it was. "The police are interviewing most of the town."

"Well, Roger does have a lot of enemies," Alex pointed out. "They might as well just go through the phone book."

"That's true," Fletcher agreed. "Still, this is really heinous. Going after Roger directly, I can see. Maybe not with the kind of force that Billy Lewis did, but Roger's sins are many, and he's never really paid for any of them. Going after Holly to get back at Roger is sadistic, though. I mean, aside from atrocious taste in husbands, she hasn't really committed any crimes against anybody. Nobody can really condemn her for taking his side. Everybody knows by now that she really loves him, even if none of us can understand why she does. But that's not the kind of thing you kidnap somebody for, so whoever did this obviously did it to punish Roger."

"So what are you saying, Fletcher, you don't think Roger deserves this?" Alex asked, her voice rising an octave despite her efforts to keep it normal.

"No, I'm saying I don't think Holly deserves it, and yet she's the one who was taken," Fletcher replied. "I just find it fascinating that whoever kidnapped Holly did it to make Roger suffer. The kidnapper or kidnappers really couldn't have found a more effective way to get to him."

"Well, as you said a moment ago, Roger's never really paid for anything he's ever done to anyone," Alex pointed out. "Maybe this is karmic justice."

"Maybe," Fletcher allowed. "But would karma really make Holly pay for Roger's sins?"

"What, are you president of Holly's fan club now?" Alex asked irritably.

Fletcher was surprised at that reaction. "You used to be friends with Holly once upon a time," he reminded her.

"Yes, well, things change," Alex replied succinctly.

"So you really don't feel badly for Holly at all right now?" Fletcher asked. "Everybody else does. The only people who feel any sympathy for Roger are Blake and Tangie and Maureen, but the general consensus, even among those whom Roger has wronged the most and the worst, is that Holly doesn't deserve to be buried for the evils Roger has committed."

Alexandra fought to keep her reaction at Fletcher's choice of words from showing. _He doesn't know,_ she thought. _No one knows. They can't know. No one was at the TV station last night, no one saw me drag Holly down to the wine cellar, and no one knows she's down there but me. _

Alex was saved from having to reply to Fletcher by a very timely interruption by Ginger. Unfortunately, Ginger's interruption was to announce that Detective Levy and Sergeant Crawford of the Springfield PD were there to see Ms. Spaulding.

"Show them in, Ginger," Alex directed, trying not to seem as nervous as she felt inside.

_April 11, 1995, 12:14 PM—Spaulding Warehouse_

As Roger and Blake searched the last warehouse and still found no trace of Holly, Roger turned over and over in his mind again who could have taken her.

And he kept coming back to one person and one person only: Alexandra Spaulding.

Josh Lewis had blamed him for Billy going to jail last year. Ever the hothead, Josh had blown up at Roger, manhandled him, threatened him, told him off, gotten a bit of his own back by withholding Hart's address after stumbling upon it through Jenna, and ever since then, Josh had studiously ignored Roger, steering as clear of him as it was possible to do when they lived in the same town. Josh's fit of raging temper against Roger had subsided by the time Billy had been sentenced and sent up.

Besides, all of the Lewises, from Josh to H.B. to Mindy to Dylan to Vanessa, even though she had divorced Billy, taken back the Chamberlain name and was now seriously involved with young Matt Reardon, would come after him directly…preferably with a loaded gun, to finish what Billy had started. They would enjoy thinking of his pain and anguish once they learned Holly was missing, but none of them would have taken her to punish him. They would have gone with the direct approach: another bullet, or a beatdown like the one Billy handed him at the Blue Moon years ago after finding out he'd been sleeping with Mindy. If Josh was out to get him, Roger knew, he wouldn't go through Holly to do it, so Roger no longer believed that Josh was responsible for Holly's kidnapping.

Alexandra, on the other hand, had been out to get him since long before he'd been shot. Her exhibition at Company on Valentine's Day was no longer amusing to him. He was the only person Alexandra hated more than Mindy, and she had tried to kill Mindy. No matter what kind of legal loopholes had been employed to keep her from facing so much as probation for the Valentine's Day Massacre, Roger had no doubt at all that, had Dylan not jumped in between Alex and Mindy, Mindy would have been the one slashed, or more likely stabbed, with the knife Alex wielded that night.

And to Roger's mind, it was no stretch at all to picture Alexandra coming undone enough in the past couple of months since the Valentine's Day Massacre to kidnap Holly to punish him.

And he had been cocky enough to goad Alex about how she spent her Valentine's Day and proclaim his happiness with his life when he'd seen her at the country club the day Nick signed WSPR over to Holly…

**_{{_**_He'd been sitting at the bar while waiting for Holly to arrive, along with Leo Flynn and Nick, when he saw Alexandra come in. He couldn't resist taking a dig at her. "Uh oh. I hope the kitchen staff has hidden all the knives."_

_"What are __**you**__ doing here?" she asked coldly. "Considering your history with this place, I would think you wouldn't dare to ever show your face here for fear of getting shot, thrown out, or publicly humiliated again."_

_"My fortunes have greatly improved since those bleak days," he replied, taking a sip of his drink, "while yours seem to have gone in the other direction. I'm sorry I missed your grand performance the other night, but I was celebrating Valentine's Day in a much_ _more traditional manner with my wife. I read all about it, though. Only a butcher knife, eh, Alex? What, you couldn't get your hands on a machine gun on such short notice?"_

_Alex glared at him. "Where __**is**__ Holly, anyway?" she asked. "You're not Velcroed to her side for once?"_

_"Holly's on her way," he replied with a smile. He regarded her with relaxed amusement. He had everything he'd ever truly wanted, and for a change, she was the one getting questioned by the police. "Are you meeting Fletcher here?" He answered his own question immediately. "No, after the other night, probably not." He took another sip of his drink before looking at her again, his eyes gleaming predatorily. "So, Mindy's got her hooks into another man in your life. For a toothless street whore, she sure has something the men in your life are drawn to like moths to a flame. Phillip…Nick…now Fletcher."_

_"You left yourself off that list," she reminded him._

_"I don't like remembering my past mistakes, and honestly, I'm not sure which of you was the bigger mistake, you or Mindy," he replied. "I'm just glad those days are far behind me. Not everyone is lucky enough to finally get it right with the love of their life. Like you, for instance. Who __**was**__ the love of your life, anyway? We know it wasn't me. And if it's Fletcher…well, past experience shows that you'd better neutralize Mindy fast. Since the knife thing didn't work, have you considered getting a couple of Dobermans and training them to rip her throat out? You do like to go for the jugular, as we both well know. You might as well be literal about it this time."_

_Before Alex could come up with a suitable retort, Alan and Hope entered the bar, looking for her. "Alexandra, there you are!" Hope exclaimed. "Uncle Ed and Maureen and Michelle are waiting in the dining room."_

_Alan refused to look at him, sniffing as he looked at his sister and said, "There's no need to lower yourself to the level of Roger Thorpe, Alexandra."_

_"Come on, Alexandra, our table's ready and our lunch companions are waiting," Hope said as she urged Alex toward the dining room._

_But Roger just had to get in that one last shot. "Try to stay away from the kitchen knives, Alex!" Roger called after them. "You wouldn't want to get yourself banned from here for life." Alexandra and Alan both stiffened and momentarily stopped in their tracks, their backs to Roger, but Hope gently steered both toward the dining room with a hand on each of their arms.__**}}**_

Holly had even had something to say about him goading Alexandra after she had arrived and business was taken care of…

**_{{_**_Contrary to popular opinion, I am capable of letting the nasty remark of a Spaulding go unanswered," he said._

_"Yes, you are," Holly agreed. "Especially when you've already taken a few shots at another Spaulding."_

_He looked chagrined. "You heard that?" he asked._

_"No, but I saw Alex in the dining room looking peeved, and you were sitting here with that 'I just zinged one of my enemies' look about you, so I just put two and two together," she replied. She looked at him, concerned. "You really shouldn't poke at her of all people. The last thing I want is her coming after you the way she went after Mindy the other night."_

_But he had tossed off a witty retort, not putting any stock in Alexandra wanting to do any damage to him now that he was well and truly out of the war for Spaulding Enterprises for good. "She went after Mindy because she caught Mindy trying to remove Fletcher's tonsils with her tongue. Believe me, I would never try to do that!"__**}}**_

Even Chrissy had pointed out how lucky he was the morning after the Valentine's Day Massacre was all over the papers…

**_{{_**_"I see you've heard about last night," Chrissy greeted him when she arrived at the office and found him reading a stack of newspapers and tabloids trumpeting the coverage of Alexandra's spectacle at Company the night before that had required police intervention and stitches in Dylan Lewis's slashed arm, caused by Alexandra._

_"I'm sorry I missed it. I would have liked to have seen it for myself, preferably with a big bowl of popcorn," he replied as he set the newspapers aside._

_"Oh, really?" she asked dryly. "Think about what you were doing last night while Alex was chasing Mindy around with a butcher knife. Would you __**really **__rather have been watching that instead of doing whatever it was you were doing last night with Mom?" Chrissy regarded him for a moment, then said, "I thought not. Besides, you should be grateful that Alex's rampage wasn't aimed at you."_

_"Oh, I am," Roger replied. __**}}**_

And he was. Life was much more peaceful and much less stressful when lived Spaulding-free, and he couldn't be happier, couldn't ask for more, than the life he and Holly were building together.

He should have known that Alex would come after him eventually. He should have taken her Valentine's Day escapade for what it really was: a giant red flag, a warning that after trying to slice Mindy into tiny pieces with a butcher knife, he would be next on her hit list, because as much as she loathed and despised Mindy, she loathed and despised him even more.

He knew then with blinding clarity that Alexandra was the one who had done this. It was Alex who had taken Holly from him.

And Alex was damn well going to give her back to him safe and sound, too.

Blake rounded the corner, bringing him out of his thoughts. "There's nothing down there at all, just a lot of empty space," she said.

Just then, they were interrupted by Detective Cutter and a uniformed sergeant. "Well, well, well," Cutter said dryly, "I should have known when a call came in that someone had broken into a Spaulding warehouse that it was you involved, Mr. Thorpe. And Mrs. Marler," he continued, looking at Blake, "I see you weren't kidding about being a big pain in the department's ass."

"Why are you here harassing me and my father instead of looking for my mother?" Blake demanded.

"Oh, the rest of the force is looking for your mother, and interviewing persons of interest, as we speak," Cutter replied. "That's why I get to make these arrests myself. I believe you both know the drill by now. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…"

Roger tuned Cutter out, heard Chrissy arguing against their arrest and declaring that she was going to call Ross first thing and he'd certainly have something to say about this, and concentrated on how he could get Chrissy to leave him alone once they had finished with the law and order boys so that he could go and confront Alexandra and get his wife back. And if Alex had even thought about going after Holly with a butcher knife…

Scowling darkly, Roger sat silently in the squad car beside his daughter, wondering where, since she wasn't in any of the Spaulding warehouses, Alexandra had stashed Holly, and cursing himself for not having seen this coming. He remembered another ride he took in a squad car, with Holly last fall, and that was all because of Alexandra too…

**_{{_**_"Okay, who wants to tell me what's going on?" Detective Cutter asked._

_"Nothing happened, Cutter. It's a scam," Holly said._

_Roger, his hand resting on Holly's arm, added, "We received a dinner invitation from that woman." He pointed to Alexandra across the room._

_"Can I see the invitation, please?" Cutter asked._

_"Yes, I'd like to see that myself," Alexandra said._

_"We don't have it with us," Roger admitted. _

_"Oh, no?" Alex said. "Quelle surprise!"_

_"It must be at the office. We didn't think we needed it," Holly said._

_"Oh, please," Nick sniffed. "The two of you talking about a dinner invitation is a pathetic excuse for getting caught with your hands in the safe."_

_"Nick, we were set up by your mother, all right?" Roger insisted. "I don't know why. Maybe she thought it would be fun."_

_"Oh, really?" Alex said. "To have you romping around in my bed? You know, you're both perverts!"_

_"We never touched your bed, Alex! Come on!" Holly retorted. _

_"And the safe was open, and that's why we looked in it," Roger concluded._

_"I don't want to drag down the tone of this conversation any more," Cutter said, "but crime does not stall for anyone. Levy and I have a very tough night ahead of us, so please—"_

_"If there was any crime committed here, Roger and I didn't do it!" Holly interjected. "We came when the invitation told us to come. We came through the front door, which was unlocked—"_

_"Well, somebody came in the hard way, because the lock's been jimmied and taken out," Detective Levy reported._

_"Not by us!" Holly insisted._

_"Butter wouldn't melt," muttered Fletcher._

_Levy then plucked something from the underside of the fireplace mantel with a handkerchief. "Well, a regular treasure trove here, Cutter." He held it up. "A bug, planted almost in plain sight."_

_"Interesting," Cutter remarked. _

_"You have something to say about that, Roger?" Nick asked._

_"You're more of an idiot than I thought," Roger replied. "If I was going to plant a bug, you can be damn sure it wouldn't be where somebody could trip over it."_

_"So you were in a hurry, Roger, and you got sloppy," Fletcher accused. _

_"Oh, would you tell Perry Mason to shut up?" Roger said irritably._

_"This is absurd, really," Alexandra said. "Why would I send them an invitation when I know I'm going to be at the Carleton State Prison with my entire family and my staff having dinner with my brother?" Roger and Holly looked at each other then. "Let's not waste your valuable time, Detective Cutter. Just go ahead and arrest them!"_

_"It'll be like old times, Roger. You were the first person I arrested when I came to Springfield," Cutter said._

_"Uh uh uh. No, no, no. I want Miss Holly Golightly arrested too!" Alex exclaimed._

_Roger protested Holly's arrest to no avail. They were both handcuffed, read their rights, and taken to the station house. _

_At the police station, he and Holly were seated side by side, still handcuffed, while Cutter went to get the forms for Alexandra, who had been accompanied by Nick, to sign. "This is obvious fraud, Cutter!" Roger shouted. He looked to Holly beside him, feeling nothing but regret that she had ended up here. "I'm sorry. I should have never let you get swept up in this. I should have seen it was a trap. All the signs were there."_

_"It's not your fault," Holly replied. "They've been after you for years. Good Queen Alex and her clown prince."_

_Then Tangie had showed up to see Cutter about something else and spotted them, rushing over and anxiously asking if there was anything she could do. _

_"No, no, it's all right. As soon as I'm allowed to call my lawyer, we'll be bailed out," he replied._

_"Don't count on it, Roger," Alexandra haughtily informed him as she approached. "I made the mistake before of dropping charges against you. Believe me, I won't do it again. No, this time I'm going to throw the book at you!"_

_Cutter called Alex over then to sign the complaint against Roger and Holly, leaving them to wait._

_"They love to drag this out, don't they?" Roger asked rhetorically. "If I wasn't so mad, I'd be on the floor laughing."_

_"I lost my sense of humor in the squad car coming over here," Holly replied._

_"I am so sorry, Holly."_

_"You keep saying that. You and I have nothing to be sorry about," Holly said firmly._

_Meanwhile, Tangie called Blake, who brought Ross down to the police station with her._

_"We're gonna get you out of here, okay? Right, Ross?" Blake said._

_"Honey, I'd like to, but I'm an attorney for Spaulding, and Alexandra's the one who filed the complaint. I've got a conflict of interest," Ross replied._

_Blake was in no mood for conflicts of interest, however. "Oh, please, would you stop being so damn political for just a minute here? This is my mother! She's not gonna spend the night in jail!"_

_"How could you blame me for that when everybody knows who caused it?" Ross asked, inclining his head at Roger, who was on the phone trying to find a lawyer to pay his and Holly's bail._

_"Roger didn't do anything!" Holly exclaimed. "This was a setup!"_

_Roger hung up the phone then. "Well, no luck," he reported. "Aside from Ross, there isn't a lawyer stirring tonight."_

_"Don't worry about a thing, Dad, because you can count on me and Ross," Blake said, looking at Ross pleadingly._

_"Thank you," Roger said._

_"Yes," Ross said, receiving Blake's silent message. "I'm gonna call one of my friends, happens to be a judge, we'll see about the bail."_

_"Thank you very much," Roger said._

_"Thank you," Blake echoed, gifting her husband with a grateful smile before he went off to make that call._

_"Chrissy, it's good to see you, sweetie," Roger said to Blake then, taking her hand. "I just wish you didn't have to see us like this."_

_"I am here because of Alex," Blake replied firmly, looking from her father to her mother. "She did this out of vindictiveness. What is the problem? Why does she play these hurtful games?"_

_"I don't know," Holly said. "I think she enjoys it." She looked at Roger then. "But I know what it's been like for your father all these years, to have absolutely nobody believe you because your name is Roger Thorpe. It looks like they want war, Roger. I say, let 'em have it.__**}}**_

Holly had still been fuming the next morning, and Roger had still been contrite…but Holly hadn't blamed Roger for their arrest at all.

**_{{_**_Holly slammed the day's Journal, with its front-page headline PUBLISHER AND CONSORT ARRESTED FOR BREAKING AND ENTERING, down on her desk. "I still can't believe she had us arrested for breaking and entering after she set this up!"_

_"And she didn't miss a trick," he replied. "I checked the trash at my office for that dinner invitation. Gone."_

_"I've felt a lot of things for that woman over the years, but I've never hated her before," Holly said._

_"I'm really, __**really **__sorry, Holly."_

_"Roger, you have to stop saying that. I meant what I said last night: it wasn't your fault. __**I **__talked you into going over there because I was so intrigued, and because I was foolish enough to think maybe she was making a peace offering. What a fool I was!" She met his gaze then and said, "I'll tell you something, though. If I have anything to say about it, no Spaulding is ever gonna use us again!"__**}}**_

Alan had trumped up the invitation to set them up as part of his bid to regain control of Spaulding. He was released from prison three weeks after Roger and Holly were arrested; he had set them up to distract Alexandra from business, and the distraction had worked. Alex was on the warpath against him and Holly for weeks afterward before finally being convinced to drop the charges. That had been the real start of the distance between her and Fletcher, and that was also when she had started pushing Nick to become a bigger part of the company, which had caused arguments between mother and son about how big a role Nick would ultimately take in the company, which, in turn, caused static with both Alan and Alan-Michael over Nick's increased presence, regardless of how big or small it turned out to be.

Alexandra had Holly somewhere. He was certain of it. And as soon as he extricated himself from the Keystone Kops here, he would find a way to lose Chrissy for a while—not wanting her caught up in anything that would cause trouble for her and Ross—and go and face down Alex, demanding that she let Holly go.

And then, Roger vowed, Alexandra would be the one in jail, for kidnapping and anything else that she could legally be charged with.

_April 11, 1995, 1:07 PM—Springfield Police Department_

Faith hung up the phone with a sigh and rubbed at the back of her neck. She had finally tracked down Evie Stapleton McFerren, Rita's sister. That was not an easy, or particularly fruitful, conversation, after Faith had identified herself as an officer with the Springfield Police Department.

"Faith Spaulding? Are you any relation to Alan Spaulding?" Eve asked disdainfully.

"He's my father, but that's not why I'm calling. This is in relation to a missing persons case, involving Holly Thorpe. She was kidnapped last night."

"You think my sister had something to do with her disappearance?" Evie asked. "If anyone has cause to go after Roger and Holly, it's definitely Rita, but I'm sure you'll be disappointed to know that she had nothing to do with it. She couldn't have, because she lives in Europe. In fact, my husband and I just got back from visiting her yesterday, so I can tell you that in addition to the fact that Rita hasn't set foot in that godforsaken burg in almost 20 years, the only place Rita was last night was seeing Ben and me off at de Gaulle Airport." And with that, Evie slammed the phone down in Faith's ear.

Faith was making yet another fruitless phone call to one of the CIA contacts remaining on her list when she heard a commotion. She hurriedly ended her call and rose from her desk just in time to see Cutter and Sergeant Morrison escorting Roger Thorpe and Blake Marler in. Roger was uncharacteristically silent, while Blake was demanding her one phone call immediately and threatening to have Ross sue the department for false arrest because of necessity. "Necessity induces a privilege because of a private right!" she exclaimed. At the surprised looks she got from Cutter, Morrison, Frank, Levy, and Faith, Blake said, "Please. I have an MBA, and my husband is a damn good lawyer. Of course I know the tort of necessity."

"Okay, Mr. Thorpe, I'll bite," Cutter said. "What, exactly, made you and your daughter breaking and entering in the Spaulding warehouses a necessity?"

"We were looking for my wife, Detective," Roger replied as Cutter unlocked first his handcuffs, then Blake's. "You had your chance to find her, and instead your people are either sitting around here making useless phone calls," he glared at Faith then, "or trying to impede any progress I could possibly make in finding her!"

"The police are impeding **your** progress?" Cutter asked drolly.

"You're wasting your time digging into my past with the Agency. No one from back then had anything to do with Holly's disappearance!" Roger insisted.

"And you know who did," Cutter said.

"You bet I do!" Roger exclaimed. "Alexandra Spaulding!"

"Where's the proof?" Faith wanted to know, glowering at Roger.

Roger glared back at Faith, then looked to Cutter. "You really have **her** working this case?" he asked indignantly. "Isn't there some sort of rule against relatives of prime suspects in felony cases being involved in the investigation?"

"I am **not** the only officer working this case, Roger!" Faith retorted. "And I have yet to hear this proof you claim to have that Alexandra Spaulding is the one who kidnapped Holly!"

"I know it in here!" Roger shouted, slapping his palm over his heart. "And the rest of you would know it too if you'd really think for two seconds!"

"Again, Mr. Thorpe, where is your proof?" Cutter wanted to know. "We don't even have circumstantial evidence against Alexandra Spaulding, or anyone else, for that matter. And we're looking for hard facts, Mr. Thorpe, physical evidence."

"You want facts, Detective Cutter? You want evidence? Valentine's Day!" Roger exclaimed. "What's the legal term for that, Chrissy, an established pattern of behavior?"

"That sounds right to me," Blake said. "And I'm not trying to tell you how to do your jobs—"

"No, Blake, you're not, but your father is!" Faith said.

"Somebody obviously has to!" Roger screamed. "Look at what Alexandra tried to do to Mindy Lewis on Valentine's Day! And she hates me more than she hates Mindy! I should have seen this coming after I walked away from Spaulding Enterprises. She's been biding her time, just waiting to strike back at me." Then he remembered something very important. "Last fall!" he shouted, looking to Cutter. "Last fall, Detective Cutter, when you arrested Holly and me for breaking and entering at the Spaulding Mansion, do you remember that?"

"Yes, but I fail to see how that has any bearing on your wife's disappearance, since the charges were dropped a couple of weeks after that break-in," Cutter replied.

"We did not break in!" Roger reminded Cutter angrily. "And of course you wouldn't see the connection, because you weren't there when she said it."

"When who said what?" Frank asked.

"Alex!" Roger exclaimed, the veins in his neck standing out. "Holly and I went to the mansion to try to get her to drop the charges against us. That first time we tried, she wouldn't listen to a word either one of us had to say, and she blamed us! She said that somehow, Holly and I had managed to make her lose almost everything she cared about, so why should she care if we rotted in jail? Do any of you people have two working brain cells, or do they make you turn them in when they issue your uniforms and badges? She blamed Holly and me back then, and that was before everything that's happened the past few months: before Alan got out of prison, before he took back the CEO chair at Spaulding, before Fletcher moved out on her, before I walked away from Spaulding Enterprises and refused to help her try to keep Alan from taking back control!"

Faith felt a block of ice forming in the pit of her stomach then. Hearing it put that way, she had to reluctantly concede that Roger might have a point. Alexandra **did** hate him even more than she hated Mindy, and Alex had been through a lot these past several months, none of it turning out the way she wanted it to. The fact that Roger Thorpe, of all people, had launched a successful business and was happily married to Holly would definitely have grated on Alexandra's nerves, especially in light of the way her own life was going at the same time by comparison: constant arguments over the direction, future, and control of the company with Alan, Alan-Michael, and Nick all three; Fletcher moving out of the mansion; Alan taking the CEO position away from Alexandra, even if the CEO position was a detriment to her health; and of course, her behavior at Company on Valentine's Day.

What if the incident at Company wasn't isolated, but was, in fact, part of that pattern of behavior Roger and Blake were talking about?

What if Alexandra really **had** kidnapped Holly?

Carefully schooling her features to avoid giving away her inner turmoil, Faith said, "As you point out, Alexandra hates you more than anyone else in the world. That's not a secret. But again, we have no concrete proof linking her to Holly's kidnapping."

"That is exactly why **she **should not be working this case!" Roger fumed, gesturing at Faith. "She's a Spaulding, and they protect themselves to the exclusion of everyone else! Instead of sitting around making useless phone calls and interviewing everyone in town, you should be concentrating on the **one person** with a true motive for this, and an established pattern of behavior proving that she's capable of going far enough around the bend to do it! You should be interrogating Alexandra, and turning the Spaulding Mansion upside down and inside out, tearing it down brick by brick if you have to, to find my wife!" Roger punctuated this statement by slamming his fist down on Faith's desk.

"Back off, Thorpe," Cutter warned him in a low, dangerous voice. "Spaulding, take a walk."

"I'm fine, Cutter," Faith replied. Holly's disappearance was tearing Roger apart, but he couldn't be right about her Aunt Alex…could he?

Blake looked at her father worriedly. She knew how angry and scared and worried he was about her mother, because she was too, but she was afraid he'd burst a blood vessel if he kept yelling like this. "Dad," she said, and Roger looked at her, his chest heaving from the exertion of his outburst. "Please calm down. If not for yourself, then do it for me…and for Mom."

Roger forced a deep breath into his lungs then, but it wasn't deep enough to take away the boulder sitting in the middle of his chest. Blake looked at Detective Cutter and said, "I want my one phone call, and I want it now!"

In reply, Cutter merely looked at her, jerked his chin at Roger, and said, "Get him out of here." He looked to Roger then. "We've got work to do, and you're wasting valuable time your wife might not have, Mr. Thorpe."

Blake looped her arm through her father's. "Come on, Dad," she said. "We'll call Ross to pick us up and take us to get my car, and then we'll go back to the house."

"All right," Roger murmured. "Yes, let's get out of here." The sooner he was out of here, the sooner he could marshal his thoughts, come up with a way to send Chrissy off with Ross so she was out of the way, and storm the Spaulding Mansion.

After Roger and Blake had departed, Cutter said, "All right, people, what do we have? Any solid leads on anyone?"

"Rita Stapleton isn't involved," Faith said, "and the two people I've managed to talk to directly at the CIA aren't either."

"Jenna Bradshaw Cooper said that if she wanted to get back at Roger Thorpe, she'd just shoot him and be done with it," Levy reported. Then he looked to Frank. "You might suggest to your stepmother that she be a bit more circumspect with law enforcement in the future, Cooper."

Frank nodded painfully. "I'm afraid to ask what my father had to say, since I'm sure he was there too."

"Oh, yes, he was there," Levy replied. "He was a lot more colorful than your stepmother, but the gist was the same: there's no accounting for Holly's taste in husbands, but neither Buzz Cooper nor Jenna Bradshaw Cooper have any current beef with Roger, and they haven't taken any actions against him lately for past squawks."

"And the Chamberlains?" Cutter inquired.

"Well, AJ Chamberlain is the one who called in the initial report last night," Levy reminded everyone. "We talked to him again this morning, but his story's the same. What that tells us is that whoever kidnapped Holly Thorpe was lying in wait, because the window of time between AJ Chamberlain seeing her leaving WSPR and discovering her car, purse and keys in the parking lot was thirty minutes total. As for the rest of the Chamberlains, none of them think much of Roger Thorpe, and there is an ugly history between Roger and Henry Chamberlain, not to mention Billy Lewis is their ex-son-in-law and ex-brother-in-law, but I think Stacey Chamberlain summed up the family's position best: they all hate Roger Thorpe, but none of them have anything against Holly. They're sorry this happened to her, but none of them had anything to do with it. They all have alibis, as do Jenna and Buzz, and Crawford and I will be checking on those this afternoon."

Cutter nodded, then looked to Frank and Metzger. "What about the Lewises?"

"Pretty much the same as the Chamberlains," Frank replied. "They're sorry this happened to Holly, but H.B. Lewis said, and Josh wholeheartedly agreed, that Roger's had this coming for a long time. None of them were surprised that she's been kidnapped, and Mindy said whoever did this has to be smart, because the best way to make Roger suffer is to do something to Holly or to Blake. Vanessa, Bridget, and Dylan all agreed that this is a direct action against Roger, but the Lewises all have alibis too, and Metzger and I are going to start checking on those right away."

"The Spauldings?" Cutter asked then.

"Well, they were more combative than anyone else we interviewed," Frank admitted. "Alan-Michael, Nick, and Alan were all insulted. Alexandra was angry that we were bothering her and distracted by noisy workmen in the house. The only one who was halfway civil when answering our questions was Hope Spaulding. Fletcher Reade was there too, apparently he'd stopped by to visit Alexandra, but he couldn't contribute anything to the investigation. In fact, he was asking us questions for the _Journal_. As with the others, we'll be checking their alibis."

"I have to say something," Faith said then, and her fellow officers all turned to look at her. "I honestly can't say for certain myself if Alexandra's behavior on Valentine's Day could be symptomatic of a behavior pattern that's only just started developing, but I think it is a possibility. And until just now, Roger was making noises about Josh Lewis, but Josh is a single parent. No matter how much he hates Roger, he would never risk leaving his kids parentless just to get back at Roger. Of course, Roger was so busy accusing Alexandra a little while ago that he never even mentioned Josh. But Alexandra is definitely a person of interest here. She needs to be looked at carefully."

"We'll be looking at all the people of interest carefully, Spaulding," Cutter said. He looked to Frank, Levy, Metzger and Crawford then. "I want updates once the alibis have all been checked. After the quartet dispersed, he asked Faith, "Spaulding, weren't you supposed to go home a few hours ago?"

"I want to see this case through to the end, since I was one of the first responders," she replied. "I will take a lunch hour, though."

Cutter nodded, then headed to his office. Faith, hoping that her instincts were wrong, and that her Aunt Alex was not involved in Holly's kidnapping, headed out then. It was time to visit Aunt Alex and observe her behavior, off the record and unofficially.

_April 11, 1995, 1:48 PM—Wine Cellar_

Holly had been over the entire floor, and hadn't found any kind of hidden door or hatch.

Panic rose in her throat like bile. Frustrated and scared, she began to cry.

She only gave in to the tears for a moment, though. Fear and frustration were valid feelings right now, but they wouldn't get her out of here.

Thinking about valid feelings reminded her: she and Roger would definitely be talking to Dr. Janssen about this. She knew Roger, and she knew that if he hadn't started to blame himself yet because he was still running on panic and fear and busy being more of a thorn in the police department's side than Blake had been when he was missing after being shot, he would blame himself soon enough, and the way Holly saw it, this was not his fault.

Yes, Alexandra blamed him, but Alexandra had gone completely off the rails here. Sane people did not kidnap the wife of a man they despised to the very marrow of their bones, imprison her in an old wine cellar, and then have the main—it **could not** be the only—entrance to the wine cellar bricked up.

She scrubbed at her face, wiping her eyes. What she wanted and needed most of all now was the comfort of her husband's embrace. And to get that, she had to get out of here.

She hadn't had anything to eat nor anything significant to drink in…she checked her watch…25 hours, not since the soda she'd had at home with Blake yesterday when Blake dropped off Roger's birthday cake. That sip of wine this morning that had tasted like vinegar wasn't enough. She was dehydrated, she knew; her mouth and throat were dry, and her tongue felt thick and fuzzy.

She forced herself to take another sip of the vinegar wine, but this time it gagged her. Afraid she was going to be sick, Holly dropped the wine bottle and rushed to the large drain in the middle of the floor. Falling to her knees, she braced her hands on either side of the drain, put her head down, and managed to drag in a few deep breaths, successfully quashing her nausea.

As she was bent over the drain, she noticed that the drain was just slightly crooked. She had, of course, seen the drain, which was at least five feet across, in the floor, but it wasn't until now, when she was bent over the drain and had a close-up view of it, that she noticed that it was just a few degrees off center.

She bent her face closer to the drain, and the smell of mildew assailed her nostrils.

Her mind raced. Mildew below the drain meant that water was getting in, and this far below ground—in a wine cellar that had started out as a bomb shelter—the closest source of water would be outside!

She leaned over further and forced her voice to work, shouting through the holes in the drain as loudly as she could. **"HELLO!"**

Her voice echoed back at her: **"HELLO!**...HELLO!...Hello!...hello…"

The echo meant that there was hollow space beneath the drain. Otherwise, there wouldn't **be** an echo!

This had to be the way out, the other exit that she'd been looking for!

She pried at the drain with her fingers, breaking several fingernails in the process, but the drain wouldn't budge.

Undeterred, she scanned the wine cellar for something she could use to wedge the drain up and out of the way. After several minutes, she located a broken piece of wooden shelf that was hopefully just wedge-shaped enough to do the job.

She attacked the drain with the piece of shelf, forcing her tired muscles to dig in and heave as she worked to remove it.

This had to be the way out. All she had to do was pry up the drain, drop through the hole to the space below, and she would be on her way out of this nightmare.

Gritting her teeth, Holly continued to wrestle with the drain, feeling it gradually start to give. She pushed harder with the piece of shelf, unwavering in her determination to free herself from this nightmare.

_April 11, 1995, 2:02 PM—The Spaulding Mansion_

Hope answered the door at the mansion and was glad to see her daughter, but she didn't get past "Hello" before Alexandra swooped in, glowering at Faith. "It's bad enough that they had to come and question us like common criminals, but you didn't think to pick up a phone and let **somebody** know the police would be coming?!" she shouted without preamble.

Faith looked to her mother. "Your father and I met here for lunch just a few minutes after they questioned Alexandra, and then they questioned us," Hope said. "We cooperated fully, of course. It's just so hard to believe that Holly's missing. Poor Blake."

"Yeah, Blake's taking this very hard," Faith replied.

"I still want to know why you didn't let us know we were going to be questioned by the police!" Alex exclaimed.

"I couldn't, Aunt Alex! It's an ongoing investigation, and I'm not involved in that part of it!" Alan came in then.

"You could have made an exception for us!" Alex said.

"And give Roger Thorpe ammunition to use against the entire department? No way!" Faith insisted adamantly. She opted not to tell Alexandra about Roger's accusations against her at the station house a short time ago.

Alan jumped to his daughter's defense then. "Faith has a point, Alexandra. You know as well as I do that if Faith had told us some of her fellow officers were coming over to question us, once Roger got wind of it, he would have used it against not only Faith but the entire police department."

Before Alexandra could respond, Alan-Michael came in. "Am I the only one in the family who was graced with the presence of your colleagues asking me if I know anything about Holly Lindsey-Thorpe's disappearance, little sister, or have they been here too?"

"Oh, they've been here!" Alex said shrilly. "This is outrageous!"

"You're missing the point here," Faith informed her aunt and her brother, looking from one to the other. "The point isn't that you're all being questioned. The point is that Holly is missing, and I can't confirm or deny anything you haven't already been told by the police."

"Then **WHAT IS THE POINT OF YOU**?" Alex said sharply.

"Alexandra!" Alan exclaimed, taken aback at his sister's attitude.

Faith pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm just doing my job," she said. "And I'm not here as an officer right now, I'm just here visiting my family."

"And I would think you would have a bit more consideration for your family!" Alexandra stated before storming out.

"I'll talk to her," Alan promised before going after Alexandra.

Alan-Michael poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher at the bar and sat down on the couch. "So, has Roger been by to threaten the police yet for not doing enough to find Holly?"

"Oh yes," Faith replied.

"I can't imagine what Blake must be going through right now," Hope said. "In a way, it might be almost a blessing for her that Roger's rampaging all over the place. It gives her something to focus on, taking care of him."

"Aunt Alex being so tense isn't good for her blood pressure," Alan-Michael said. "I know that Dad making her Chief of Operations was supposed to reduce her stress, but it hasn't really." Faith's heart sank at her brother's words. Alan-Michael had seen a lot more of Alexandra than she had since Valentine's Day, so he would know better than she the state of Alexandra's mind and behavior.

"She's not really bouncing back from Valentine's Day very well, is she?" Hope mused. "She's been so edgy lately, so preoccupied and high-strung. The police showing up here today made her very angry. Of course, I'm sure part of that was because Fletcher had dropped by for a visit and once the police showed up, he turned all of his attention to trying to get some kind of scoop for the _Journal_ about Holly's kidnapping."

"Well, Holly didn't deserve to be kidnapped, but Roger's been asking for this kind of retaliation for years," Alan-Michael chimed in. "And whoever did this took a page from Roger's own playbook. Using his own tactics on him to make him suffer is diabolically clever."

"Are you going back to the station?" she asked Faith.

"I really want to see this case through, Mom," Faith said. "I was one of the first on the scene last night, and I promised Blake that we would find her mother."

"Alan-Michael, do you have plans tonight?" Hope asked her son.

"No," he said. "Did you have something in mind?"

"I'm going to call Nick and see if he can make it over here for a family dinner," Hope said as she headed for the phone. "Alexandra has had a rough time of it these past few months. Too many bad things have happened to her at once. We haven't had a family dinner since before Valentine's Day. Do you think you might be able to stop by for dessert, Faith?"

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Faith replied. "You saw the way Aunt Alex reacted to me when I got here. I don't want to stress her out more than she already is."

"Dad's talking to her. If anyone can talk her down, it's him," Alan-Michael pointed out.

"I should get back," Faith said then. She hugged Hope. "Tell Dad I said goodbye, and I hope Aunt Alex calms down soon." Faith then bent to hug Alan-Michael before leaving.

Once she was outside, she stopped by her car for a minute. Ross had been right that morning: logically, Alexandra was a suspect. A prime suspect, even, just as Roger had said in his outburst at the police station.

But just because someone was a prime suspect, that didn't mean they were guilty.

Faith drove back to the police station then, hating that she had to wonder if her aunt was somehow involved in Holly's kidnapping, and hoping that she wasn't involved after all.


	12. Not Going Down Without a Fight

_**Many, many thanks to my collaborator Mendys for helping me get a better handle on Ed Bauer, and for her help with the Springfield Police Department in this chapter. **_

_April 11, 1995, 2:52 PM— Cedars Hospital , Ed Bauer's Office_

Ed sat in his office trying to concentrate on some paperwork, but all he could think about was Holly.

When Nola had called the house that morning to tell them that Holly had been kidnapped the night before, and that AJ had been the one to report her missing after what he found in the parking lot at WSPR, the news was a shock to Ed's system in a way nothing else had ever been in his entire life.

Too stunned to be able to process the news immediately, his knee-jerk reaction had been to blame Roger. Considering Ed's history with the man, he didn't think he could be blamed for that. And Maureen and Ross hadn't blamed him in so many words, but they had felt a sympathy for Roger that Ed just wasn't capable of feeling, especially when he couldn't get past the staggering shock he felt that Holly had been kidnapped again.

Now that several hours had passed, the news had sunk in, and his anger at Roger had mostly given way to much more deeply rooted feelings of fear and worry for Holly. Try as he might to stay in the present, his mind kept going back to Santo Domingo, he and Mike chasing Holly and Roger through the jungle, ending in a shootout, Mike winding up in the hospital, and Roger's fall from the cliff when Ed was unable to pull him up to safety. But that hadn't been the end of it. Roger had literally swung from the rafters back into Ed's life, and Holly's life, all those years later, having improbably survived the fall from the cliff (as a doctor, as a surgeon, Ed knew that logically there was no way Roger could have bounced, as he had claimed, but then Roger Thorpe was not known for being a creature of logic).

Ed had always known that Holly was inextricably drawn to Roger. His own marriage to her had ended over it. But while he was no longer in love with Holly, and hadn't been for decades, and the pain of learning that Blake was not his daughter after all had dulled, helped by the fact that he and Blake had maintained a good relationship, all had been forgiven, and Ed considered Holly his oldest and dearest friend.

Even recognizing the unbreakable bond Holly and Roger shared, which went far beyond being Blake's parents and even somehow managed to transcend their past, Ed was taken aback when he learned from Maureen that Holly and Roger had gotten married.

He shoved the paperwork on his desk aside as he thought back to the first time he'd seen Holly after the wedding, the second week in January…

**_{{_**_Ed walked into Company, ready for a bowl of Irish stew and some strong coffee after the exhausting morning he'd had, and stopped short when he saw Holly sitting alone at a booth, finishing her own lunch. He hadn't seen her since before Christmas, but four days after Christmas, Maureen had come home from a business meeting at Towers and told him that she had seen Blake, Ross, Holly and Roger there, celebrating Holly and Roger's marriage. Part of him still couldn't believe that Holly had married Roger again. Oh, he knew about them being engaged to be engaged, as Holly called it, but somehow, he'd never thought it would go beyond that. He headed over to her table to say hello._

_"I heard you got married," Ed said by way of greeting when he stopped by Holly's table, nodding at the rings on her left hand._

_The dazzling smile Holly gifted him with would put the sun to shame. "Yes, I did," she said proudly, looking down at her rings before looking back at Ed. _

_"Well, I guess I should say congratulations," Ed continued. Immediately, he knew that was the wrong thing to say because Holly's smile disappeared so fast it was like someone had flipped a switch._

_"You guess you should say congratulations," she parroted as she gathered her things. "Well, gee, Ed, try to contain yourself. I wouldn't want you to hit your head on the ceiling in your jubilation." _

_"Holly, I was there the first time around, and I just don't want to see you get hurt like that again," he explained. _

_"I understand how you feel about Roger, I do. But you don't have to worry about me, because that is not going to happen," she replied as she buttoned her coat. Ed was struck by how certain, how matter-of-fact she sounded when she said that. _

_"Of course I'm going to worry about you. You're one of my best and dearest friends. Believe me, I wish that I could be a hundred percent happy for you, and hitting my head on the ceiling in jubilation, because you deserve to be happy, Holly, no matter what form that happiness takes. It's just that this is Roger Thorpe we're talking about. I never know what he's going to do next, so I have to be concerned for you."_

_"I love him, Ed. And he loves me. And we're together-we got married-because it's what we both want, and we want it for the right reasons this time. Neither of us is anything like we were when we were married before. And I know what's he's __**not **__going to do. He's __**not**__ going to hurt me like that ever again." She squeezed his arm then. "I know it's hard for you to understand, or even believe, but this is a good thing, Ed. It's a __**very**__ good thing. And I hope that once you've had some time and space to process this, and get used to the idea of Roger and me being married again, but happily this time, maybe you can be happy for me at least a little bit."_**}}**

That was three months ago. They had both been so busy with their own lives that they hadn't had a chance to get together for coffee or a friendly dinner. But Holly had been right about one thing: as hard as it was for him to accept given her history with Roger, she really did seem to be happier with Roger now than she had been in years. But Ed couldn't help still feeling that Roger was Roger, and leopards didn't change their spots.

As angry as he had been at Roger that morning, though, right now all Ed wanted was to hear that Holly had been found, safe and sound, and to make up for not being there for Holly the way he should have been for the past three months.

When he looked up at the knock on his door, he saw Maureen peering around the door. "Busy?" she asked.

Ed scrubbed his hand over his face. "No," he said.

Maureen came in, closing the door behind her. "Michelle knows about Holly," she said as she sat down in one of Ed's guest chairs. "She heard it at school from Bill, and it was all she could talk about when I picked her up." She sighed. "She made the connection between now and what happened at Cliff House on the 4th of July, Ed. She knows that Davis came after Holly to get back at Roger then, and that someone has kidnapped Holly now to get back at Roger. She asked me who would want to hurt Roger like that, and why."

"What did you tell her?" Ed asked anxiously.

"That I don't know who kidnapped Holly, which is the truth," Maureen replied. She looked at her husband sympathetically. "I know that you're still adamant that Michelle is too young to know everything about the past with Roger as it pertains to both Holly and our family, but we're going to have to tell her something, Ed, before she goes looking for answers on her own."

Ed muttered a curse. "I wanted her to be at least as old as Faith was when Hope and Alan sat her down and told her about Roger," he said.

"Yes, but Hope and Alan told Faith everything, and they did that because Alan was headed to prison and couldn't be there to protect her or Hope himself," Maureen reminded him. "And Faith was considerably older than Michelle. I agree with you that Michelle is not old enough to hear everything, and I don't think we should tell her everything. But we have to find a way to explain what she's already deduced about Davis at Cliff House and Holly being kidnapped now. She's almost as worried about Holly as you are." She reached across the desk for her husband's hand and squeezed it. "And ever since Holly being kidnapped really sunk in with you, you keep bouncing back and forth between worry and fear for Holly, and anger at Roger, because I know you believe he caused this to happen."

"If I focus on either one of those feelings for too long, Maureen, I'll start to scream and I'll never stop," Ed admitted. He looked at Maureen, and she was struck by how haunted he looked. "Holly is my oldest friend, and this has happened to her before."

The light dawned then. "And when it did happen before, you and Mike found her and brought her back home safely," she said.

"I should have been able to prevent it from happening back then, and I couldn't, but at least then I was able to do **something**," Ed said frustratedly. "But now? Now there's nothing I can do to help Holly."

"But it wasn't your responsibility to keep this from happening this time," Maureen pointed out gently.

"No, it was Roger's, and he fell down on the job!" Ed exclaimed in a tone of restrained anger. "He's not dragging her through some jungle in Santo Domingo this time, but this is as much his fault as that was!"

"Ed, Roger wasn't expecting this to happen. None of us were. And you heard Ross this morning. Roger is suffering greatly right now."

"Well, we don't have any idea how greatly Holly is suffering right now!" Ed exclaimed.

"Have you talked to Ross since this morning? Maybe there have been some new developments," Maureen said.

Before Ed could reply, his phone rang, so he answered it. "Dr. Bauer…Yes, she is, just a moment." He handed the phone to Maureen. "It's for you. They're transferring the call from your office."

Maureen put the phone to her ear. "Maureen Bauer…Blake! How are you doing? Has there been any news at all?"

"I'm at the police station right now, waiting for Ross to pick up Dad and me. It's kind of a long story," Blake said. She sounded tired and worried, and Maureen felt badly for her all over again. "The police are interviewing suspects, but no, they haven't found my mother yet, or figured out who took her. I have a favor to ask. Could you meet me at my parents' house at 5? Dad's barely eaten or slept in two days, and I want to take him to Company for an early dinner. I think I'll have an easier time getting him down there and getting him to eat something if I have some help. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Maureen replied.

"Thank you, Maureen," Blake said.

"You hang in there, Blake," Maureen said. "They're going to find Holly. I'll see you at 5." Blake hung up with a hushed goodbye, and Maureen sighed. "I hope for everyone's sake, Holly is found soon. Blake sounds like she's about reached her breaking point."

"You're going to see her," Ed said, having heard Maureen's side of the conversation.

"Roger has barely eaten or slept in the last two days," Maureen replied. "Blake asked if I would help her get him to Company for an early dinner. He does need to eat, even if he doesn't feel like it."

"At least you can do something to help," Ed reflected. "I think I'll head down to the police station and see what's going on."

"They're going to find her," Maureen said as she rounded Ed's desk to give him a kiss before leaving.

"I just hope they find her safely, and soon," Ed replied.

_April 11, 1995, 3:09 PM—Springfield Police Department _

"What are you doing back here?" Frank asked as Faith passed by his desk on her way to her own desk.

"I can't just go sit at home while Holly's missing, Frank." Faith replied, sitting down and reaching for the list she had already gone through. Given that she wasn't even being permitted to go on follow-ups with the Chamberlains or Lewises, maybe she ought to try to get in touch with some of these people again. "And my family's made it clear that my being around at the present moment is a bit of an impediment, given that they can't be sure of me right now because I'm not doing exactly what Roger Thorpe thinks I'm doing right now."

Frank rested a hip on the corner of her desk, regarding her seriously. "Not your mother, too?" Buzz and Jenna hadn't been crazy about being questioned by the police, but they had understood why he hadn't been able to warn them. Then again, they hadn't been first ambushed by the police and then told that someone they knew was missing and presumed kidnapped, thanks to AJ's call to his Aunt Jenna.

"Not my mother." Faith assured him. "But apparently Alexandra was extremely upset to be ambushed by the police this morning, and with her blood pressure, I think Dad would probably rather I stay away so I don't cause it to skyrocket by my mere presence."

"Aw, I'm sorry." Frank chucked at her shoulder. "Not easy, is it?"

"Investigating our families for something this outrageous?" Faith chuckled, shaking her head, as Levy wandered over to them, having spotted Faith coming in.

"Spaulding, you okay after that Thorpe thing?" he asked.

"I'm fine, guys." Now she was starting to get a little annoyed. First Cutter had asked, looking like he would have cheerfully ripped Roger Thorpe's face off at the time, and now the two of them. "I can handle Roger Thorpe."

"I know you think you can handle him, but Cutter and I were having a little discussion while you were gone. Does he know where you live?" Levy asked.

"Not as far as I know, but I wouldn't be surprised. Roger Thorpe knows a lot," Faith replied. Catching Levy's worried glance to Frank, she suddenly realized what they were getting at. "Oh, come on! Really? Roger Thorpe isn't coming after any of us until Holly's back safe and sound."

"He's already gone after you once," Cutter reminded her from his doorway, where he'd been observing the conversation unnoticed until now.

"Roger thinks I'm tampering with the investigation," Faith pointed out logically. This was exactly what she didn't need. Holly didn't need it, either, at this point; she was still gone and time was probably running out for her. "You all heard what he said about my family protecting themselves to the exclusion of everyone else. He obviously thinks I'm a dirty cop planted here by my family to avoid situations like these. If he was right, that would explain why no one in my family is talking to me right now."

"I don't know, Spaulding. You still got that studio apartment off 7th Street?" asked Levy, who had made a visit down there with a housewarming gift his wife had forced him to buy, and who also refused to be distracted by his main concern of this particular moment. Of course, he and Frank would be forced to drop this conversation as soon as the alibi checks came back, but he intended to say his piece. He liked Faith; she was turning into a better cop than he would have ever expected, and she was actually fun to have around the station.

"That's a bad neighborhood, Faith," Cutter agreed, musing on it. "You're asking for trouble living down there even without having Roger Thorpe gunning for you."

"I don't agree that Roger's gunning for me. He's gunning for whoever took Holly away from him, and since he can't get at them right now, he's taking it out on us for not being able to pull Holly out of our hats. Yeah, it's kind of hard to sit there and take it when he implies that I'm a dirty cop planted on the force to keep my family above the law, but I can set that aside and remind myself that no matter how misguided a lot of people think Holly is to love him again, I don't think the fact that Roger loves her has ever been in question. Objectively, I can admit that if Jenna had vanished without a trace, Buzz would be down here puncturing all our eardrums with his bellows, and if anything, heaven forbid, ever happens to my mother, God help us, because my father would be acting exactly like Roger is right now, complete with the total disrespect Roger's shown us thus far."

"Speaking of Roger, any reason we haven't brought him in for questioning yet?" Levy asked. He had been considering exactly this point a couple of hours ago, though with all the other suspects lined up, he had let it lie until most of them had been interviewed.

"Are you kidding?" Frank asked. "If he thought we were bringing him in to interrogate him, he'd probably put a bomb together and bring it along with him."

"Besides, I really think we'd be barking up the wrong tree if we focused on Roger," Faith said. "When I got the initial report, AJ Chamberlain had Blake on hold at WSPR and Roger was with her, and when I was reconstructing the timeline with some of the forensics guys, we discovered that Roger had been with Blake and Ross from the time they arrived at his and Holly's house straight through. There's no way Roger did it. Physically impossible."

"There's no way he did it himself," Cutter corrected. Faith was developing into quite a good cop, and Cutter couldn't help being proud of the fact, having taken her under his wing over a year ago, but the can't-see-the-forest-for-the-trees syndrome was bound to hit everyone every once in a while. "Levy has a point and I should have noted it sooner, despite the fact we have no shortage of suspects. Nothing says he couldn't have hired someone. That Santo Domingo stuff back in 1980, Faith, how did that start?"

"I don't know for sure, but here comes someone who'll be able to tell us." Faith gestured toward the reception desk, where Ed Bauer had just walked in. "And, Cutter, if we're talking hiring someone, there's nothing that says Rita Stapleton couldn't be responsible for this from Europe, either."

"Real cute, Spaulding." Cutter rolled his eyes, then straightened up to get out of her way as Ed approached the quartet and Faith stood up to hug him, rubbing his back as he kissed her cheek.

"How are you holding up?" Faith asked Ed, drawing back. She didn't quite understand the deep, abiding friendship between Ed and Holly, but one would have to be blind to not see it there, even if it had cooled somewhat due to recent events. She could tell from the look in Ed's eyes that he was probably regretting that right now, probably among other things. She sighed, her stomach sinking, as she realized that they were about to bring up some very bad memories for him, not that they probably hadn't already been brought up whenever he heard about Holly's disappearance.

"I can't believe this has happened again," Ed said. He nodded in greeting to Frank, Levy, and Cutter. "I came down to see if there was anything I could do. You haven't found her yet, have you?"

"No, I'm sorry to say we haven't, Dr. Bauer," Cutter replied. "Is there anything you can tell us about Mrs. Thorpe's relationship with her husband?"

"Honestly, I try to stay out of that area of Holly's life," Ed replied, not quite catching the implication of the question. "I do know that Holly's been happy with him, from what I've heard from Blake and Maureen. Roger and I have never been friends, but I've always felt that Holly deserves every happiness in the world."

The tone and level of sound in Ed's voice worried Faith very much. It was barely above a murmur and it seemed like it was taking a supreme effort for him to get the words out. "Ed, why don't you sit down?" she offered her chair, nodding to Cutter her permission for him to take a seat at her desk so he could get whatever questions he had out of the way.

"So as far as you know, there aren't any new problems between them?" Cutter asked after both of them had sat down.

"As far as I know, there aren't," Ed replied.

"Nothing like anything that led up to how Roger Thorpe supposedly died in 1980?" Cutter pressed.

Ed was silent for a moment, the entire meaning of the interview and the questions dawning on him. Considering very carefully for a moment, he finally shook his head. "I never thought of the possibility for one moment that Roger is responsible for this. I mean, I think he's to blame for it because someone most likely took Holly to get back at him for any one of countless pains or sufferings Roger is responsible for—"

"You and everyone else in town," Levy commented quietly, taking notes.

"But if you're asking me if I think Roger did this to Holly, there's no way. I wouldn't put something this outrageous past Roger, but he'd never do it to Holly again. If my niece Hope or maybe Fletcher Reade turned up missing, I'd point the finger squarely at Roger, but he's not responsible for Holly's disappearance." Ed reflected that the fact that he was the one defending, and in effect officially clearing, Roger to the police was the ultimate in irony, given their history.

The officers exchanged looks all around. "And you're certain there's no way he would have hired this done?" Levy asked.

"I'm positive," Ed replied. "Roger did not kidnap Holly, or have her kidnapped."

The unspoken question remained unanswered, though, as the clock kept ticking: who did?

_April 11, 1995, 4:04 PM—Wine Cellar_

Despite the fact that her dehydration was getting worse, sapping her physical strength in the process, Holly kept working at removing the drain. Head down, teeth clenched, arms and shoulders screaming with pain and exhaustion, she had no idea how long she toiled before she felt the drain finally start to give. She heard a creaking noise and realized it was the drain coming loose. She let the piece of shelf she was using for a wedge fall from her hands and tried to work her fingers under the drain, and this time, she succeeded!

She took a deep breath, pulled as hard as she could, and the drain popped free! She coughed and choked at the mildew smell, which was much stronger now that it was coming up from a gaping five-foot-diameter hole instead of being filtered through the smaller holes in the drain. After her cough subsided, she peered into the hole. It was certainly big enough for her to fit through it. This had to be the way out. It **had** to be.

She had no idea what was down there, and she would have given her eyeteeth for even one sip of water, or, for that matter, any kind of beverage that didn't taste like vinegar, but she had been trapped in this wine cellar long enough. She rolled down her sleeves, buttoned her cuffs again, and dropped down the hole, landing hard on her back on a dirt-packed floor, sending a cloud of dust into the air around her after what had to be at least a six-foot drop. The dust and her hard landing both knocked the wind out of her, and as she struggled to get her breath back, she willed herself to remain calm. _Focus, _she told herself. _Think about Roger, about Blake, about what's waiting for you when you get out of here._

As her breath slowly came back, she remembered how determined Roger was after they officially got back together that they would get things right this time…

**_{{_**_"We need to talk, Holly," Roger said._

_"This sounds serious," she remarked. _

_"It is." He looked so nervous. They had only officially been back together for one week. Things were going very well so far, she thought. She tried not to panic as he motioned to her to sit beside him on the couch. _

_"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked anxiously._

_"Nothing. And, uh, I'd like it to stay that way."_

_"So would I, but I'm afraid I don't understand, Roger."_

_He took a deep breath. He seemed to be steeling himself for something. She had to try harder not to panic now. He rubbed his palms on his thighs, exhaled, and said, "Okay, I'm just gonna say it. I've been doing a lot of thinking…about us. And I think that we should…see somebody. To talk. About our issues."_

_She blinked. "You mean, like a therapist?"_

_"Couples counseling, yes."_

_She looked at him, surprised. "You want to go to couples counseling with me?"_

_"I think it would be helpful, yes." He took her hand then. "We have a lot of baggage, Holly. Individually and jointly. I don't want the past to ruin our future now that we finally have one together. I'm fully committed to you, you know that. But I'm also fully committed to getting us right, the way we didn't…the way we __**couldn't **__when we were young. I really believe that counseling would be beneficial to us and our relationship. I just… I don't want to take any chances with us."_

_She was amazed. "Wow."_

_"Is that a good wow or a bad wow?"_

_"It's a good wow. It's an amazed, impressed wow." She touched his face then. "I'm fully committed to you too. And to getting us right. There's just one thing…"_

_"What?" Now he was anxious._

_"I think we should see somebody out of town. This should be just between you and me. It's our relationship, it's our business. I don't even think we should tell Blake."_

_He smiled. "I'm way ahead of you, Hol. I've been looking into counselors in Bay City and Oakdale."_

_"Show me what you've found, and we'll pick one out together." _

_"Okay."__**}}**_

They had had their first appointment with Dr. Eileen Janssen in Bay City a week later. Dr. Janssen was a brilliant and dedicated therapist. She never passed judgment, even knowing their full history, she made them think, and her wise counsel and patient guidance in the right direction was helping them learn to break the old patterns of behavior that had destroyed them in the past.

Realizing she was able to breathe again, Holly sat up. When she got to her feet, though, she was so lightheaded that she nearly fell down again.

She sank back to the ground much more gently than she did on her initial six-foot drop from the wine cellar above and fought to combat the lightheadedness long enough to think. She had to get out of here. If she couldn't do it standing up because standing up made her too lightheaded to walk, then she would crawl.

Considering she was down here in the dark without so much as a match to light her way, crawling might be better anyway. The lower she was to the ground, the more easily she would be able to negotiate any turns or sudden drops there may be in the path.

Okay, then. Crawling it was.

As she began to move forward slowly, she tried to keep herself alert by going over the list of things she wanted to do once she was out of here.

First, she was going to drink about five gallons of water.

Then she was going to throw her arms around Roger and not let go of him for at least a week. And she would make it a group hug with Blake-had they ever had a group hug as a family?-until Ross insisted that she let Blake out of her arms. Actually, she'd just pull Ross into the group hug too, and thank him for being there for Blake, because she knew he was.

And during that week she wasn't letting go of Roger, she would make it clear to him that she did not blame him for this, that as far as she was concerned, this was not his fault. She might need Dr. Janssen's help on that one.

Roger's birthday. They had to celebrate his birthday still, the way they were supposed to before she woke up in the wine cellar with Alexandra standing over her. She had that sensational new dress, and her birthday present for him was waiting in the basement, and she refused to let Alexandra Spaulding ruin Roger's birthday for the rest of their lives.

There was one other thing, wasn't there? What was it? It took her some time to recall, but then it finally came to her: a spa day with Blake. She would really need it after this. Her fingernails were torn all to hell, and she could use a facial after all the dust swirling around her and now crawling through this dirt and…what was that tangled on her fingers?

A cobweb. It was just a cobweb.

With a spider in it that was now crawling up her hand.

GAH! She **HATED **spiders!

Without enough voice to scream, and no one around to hear her anyway, she began violently shaking her hand to fling the spider off. Finally succeeding, she shuddered before continuing her slow crawl forward, trying to picture the looks on Ross's and Roger's faces at being in the same group hug with her and Blake.

_April 11, 1995, 3:37 PM—En Route to the Springfield Police Department_

When Ross had realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Blake, he was aware that that meant having Holly, his ex-lover, and Roger, the scourge of Springfield, as his in-laws. A daunting prospect? Of course it was. He had pictured a lifetime of awkwardness with both of them, given the history he had with each of them, and that, he figured, was the best-case scenario. But he was willing to subject himself to it, so great was his love for Blake.

And then a funny thing happened. Not funny humorous, but funny unexpected: Ross found his expectations of awkwardness and worse totally defied. Holly had seen that Ross and Blake were right for each other and no longer treated either of them with anger and bitterness at what she perceived as their betrayal of her, and Roger, seeing how happy his daughter was even if it was with Ross Marler, couldn't find it in himself to object to their relationship. Ross would never try to get inside Roger's head, but he figured that if nothing else, Roger had to consider him as a son-in-law an improvement over the Spaulding boys.

Then the months rolled by, he and Blake got married, Holly and Roger's relationship flourished, and then came the day Ross found himself witnessing Holly and Roger's wedding, and the strangest thing about that was how strange he **didn't** find them being married.

If there could be said to be a benefit to having Roger Thorpe for a father-in-law, it was that Ross was forced to get to know him better than he ever wanted to…and he found, to his utter astonishment, that Holly was right about Roger: there were some good things in him. For Ross, those good things were limited to Roger's love for his wife and daughter, and his tacit approval of Ross's marriage to said daughter, but Ross knew those things were real because he had seen them for himself time and again these past several months. Seeing Roger and Holly as a married couple didn't strike him as oddly as it struck someone like Ed, because he had seen the progression of their relationship to that point, and if Ed had seen them together as often as, and the way that, Ross had, Ross believed that even Ed would have to admit that, incomprehensible as it was given their past, Roger and Holly really were good for each other, and really were good together.

When the news came last night that Holly had been kidnapped, Ross had felt sick to his stomach. She was his friend, she was his mother-in-law. Blake was beside herself. Ross did his best to comfort her, to assure her that Holly would come home to them safe and sound, that Blake would not lose her mother, and that her parents' precious second chance would not end this way.

But Ross didn't just want Holly found safely for Blake. Holly deserved to finally be happy after being unhappy for so long. She had a permanent sparkle about her now, which Ross, in all the years he had known her, had never seen, and Roger clearly had a lot to do with that sparkle. She was much more relaxed in general, especially since leaving the _Journal _to return to WSPR.

But most of all, in all the time he had known Holly, Ross had always sensed that she was searching for something that, no matter how hard she looked, she could never find. Looking back, it seemed that Blake had known what Holly was searching for before Holly had. He recalled Blake's words to him that winter night at the Jessup farm, after Holly and Roger had taken off before they, and the police, got there, when he had tried to reassure her, after they saw the bloodstains, that if Holly really was with Roger as Eve Guthrie had told them, then she would turn Roger over to the police so that he would be under a doctor's care by the end of the night…

**_{{_**_"I know my mother will take care of my father. But you're wrong about the rest of it_. _It's been a long time coming, but she's finally made her choice. I hope they outrun the whole world and get away."__**}}**_

Holly had finally found what she was searching for all those years: happiness with Roger. She deserved to enjoy it for longer than a few all-too-brief months.

Ross even felt badly for Roger. Ed was most likely right: whoever had taken Holly had done so to get back at Roger. It wouldn't be the first time something like this had happened, but then Roger had rescued Holly the other times. (Ross was thinking specifically of Daniel St. John—though that was Daniel being obsessed with Holly and hating Roger for trying to warn her off of him rather than Daniel trying to get back at Roger for something—and John Davis—who was definitely trying to get back at Roger by going after Holly.)

The fact that he couldn't do that this time since they didn't yet know where she was or who had taken her had an effect on Roger that Ross hadn't foreseen. Ross—all of Springfield, actually—was all too aware of Roger's scorched earth tendencies when he was seeking revenge for what he perceived as wrongs done to him. If, God forbid, this ordeal did not end happily, Ross was afraid that Ed's "burning of Atlanta" remark from this morning might turn out to be true. Whoever had done this had seriously underestimated the depth and strength of Roger's love for and devotion to Holly. He still took verbal shots at people like Alexandra Spaulding, but he wasn't trying to steal her company or her fortune out from under her anymore, or do anything else immoral or illegal to her or anyone else, much to the amazement of the general population.

Everyone had always known that Roger wanted Holly back. Now that he had her, he was doing an admirable job of toeing the line. It appeared that Roger's love for Holly was greater than his need for revenge, or his appetite for destroying, or trying to, others and taking what was theirs. But if the worst happened now and he lost her, Ross didn't even want to think about what Roger would do to the person or persons responsible specifically, and the greater Springfield area in general. But he greatly feared that whatever Roger would do, it would make all of his past crimes and misdeeds look like a Disney movie.

As Ross pulled into a parking space at the police station, he mused that he couldn't find it in him to be too angry at Roger for searching the Spaulding warehouses. Given his threat to the police the night before about finding Holly himself if they didn't, that was actually pretty tame, considering what Roger could have done. And of course Blake would be right in the thick of things with her father. At least they weren't under arrest, as Blake had told him literally seventeen times when she called him to come and pick them up because her car was still down by the river, so they'd have to go and pick up her car before going back to Holly and Roger's house. He would have to thank Detective Cutter for his magnanimity towards Blake and Roger.

When he entered the police station, they were sitting on the bench under the bulletin board. Roger was slumped on the bench, his hands folded and dangling between his knees, staring down at the floor. Even his profile showed his defiance and his tiredness, Ross thought. Blake was sitting next to him, rubbing his back in an effort to soothe him, and speaking softly to him. Ross went over to them and said, "Blake?"

She looked up at him. "Okay, I know you're probably really mad at me, but—"

He interrupted her. "The last thing we need right now is to be fighting," he said. "This was hardly the best idea either of you has ever had, but you're very lucky that Cutter is basically letting you go with a warning."

Blake and Roger were both surprised at Ross's reaction, but they were also both grateful for it. Ross hailed Cutter across the room to double check that Blake and Roger hadn't been arrested. "I really appreciate this, Detective Cutter," Ross said.

"Keep an eye on your father-in-law," Cutter warned Ross. "He's wound way too tight right now—understandably—but neither we nor his wife need him, or your wife, for that matter, getting in the way of our investigation."

Ross nodded. "We'll keep a close watch on him," he assured Cutter. "Do you have any leads at all yet?"

"We're doing everything we can," Cutter assured Ross. "The last of the alibi checks should be back soon. We'll proceed from there, and we'll let you know as soon as we have anything."

"Thank you, Detective, for everything," Ross said, shaking Cutter's hand. Then Ross, Blake, and Roger left the police station.

_April 11, 1995, 4:48 PM—Roger and Holly's House_

"All we were doing was looking for my mother!" Blake exclaimed as they drove down to pick up her car. "It's not like the police have found her yet!"

"No, they haven't, but they are doing everything they can to find her, and the last time I checked, you hadn't been through the police academy," Ross replied.

"I know they're looking for her, but I can't just sit back and do nothing!" Blake said.

"I understand that," Ross said. "But could you please try to keep your activities from now on at the misdemeanor level?"

Blake gave her husband a dirty look and said, "I won't be in the mood to laugh until Mom is back home safe and sound.

Roger was silent throughout their exchange, and tuned them out after that. He was silent all the way down to the warehouses, and he remained silent as he rode back to the house with Blake. Of course, he was silent because he was thinking, formulating a plan.

The Spaulding Mansion had two long, narrow tunnels underneath it. Old Brandon Spaulding had quite the paranoid streak, considering he'd had the tunnels built into the mansion so he and the other Spauldings could hide out, and spy on family members undetected when necessary.

He had to get into those tunnels and search them. If Holly wasn't in either of the tunnels, then he would confront Alexandra directly. He'd already be in the mansion anyway.

But first he had to find a way to get rid of Chrissy and Ross. He honestly did not want to cause his daughter any more trouble with her husband, and if Alex caught him skulking around the tunnels—not that he expected her to, but he had to concede the possibility was there—she would definitely want him arrested for breaking and entering. Of course, he would be able to counter with kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment charges against her for taking Holly and locking her up in the tunnels.

So, how to ditch his daughter and son-in-law long enough to rescue his wife?

The longer Roger was silent, the more worried about him Blake became, because she knew her father well enough to know that his silence meant only one thing: an explosion was coming, and it was going to be a big one. She already knew her father's mood matched the sky, which had turned gray with increasingly darkening clouds. A thunderstorm was brewing, and judging from the condition of the sky, and the change in the wind, it was shaping up to be a fierce, tumultuous downpour.

When they entered the house, Blake watched her father warily as he sat down on the couch, raked his hands through his hair, and then stared at the piano, still silent but, judging by the look on his face, caught in the grip of an obviously powerful memory.

Indeed, Roger was staring at the piano so intently, Blake was surprised the power of his gaze didn't bore a hole in the instrument. She knew that whatever he was remembering obviously had to do with Holly, but she didn't know exactly what that was.

What it was, was what had happened after Blake had left the night Holly brought the piano home…

**_{{_**_Holly sat on the couch, watching and listening as he played the piano. Entranced, she got up and sat beside him on the piano bench, watching as his fingers danced over the keys until he finished with a flourish and a smile._

_"Blues," he said._

_"Yeah," she replied, also smiling. "How come you never played like that for me before?" she asked, looking at him._

_"I don't know. Too self-conscious, I guess. I didn't think that was the image I should project for you."_

_"Image. You always thought you needed to impress me when really, what I needed was for you to be yourself."_

_"Myself. I wish I'd known all that before."_

_"So do I. Things might have been a lot different."_

_"I wasted so much energy," he lamented. "I just… I never felt that this was enough. I just never felt that __**I**__ was enough, I guess. And now, when I may finally be on the verge of actually getting it right, I'm sitting here waiting for the police to come with a warrant for my arrest."_

_"Well, they didn't get here yet. Maybe it's not going to happen."_

_"Oh, I know better than that. Alex is a 'get even' kind of gal. She'll never forgive me for taking Spaulding away from her. She's gonna want me to get the maximum. They're just biding their time to build the best possible case."_

_"Well, let's enjoy the time that we have."_

_"Yes. I don't want to waste this. I don't want to waste one moment of this."__**}}**_

And they hadn't wasted one moment since that night. In fact, once those charges were dropped, their resolve to not waste any more time with each other than they'd already lost only strengthened.

He and Holly could finally be themselves with each other now. It had been hard for Roger to learn how to be honest, but now that he had, now that he knew the importance and the value of honesty with Holly, he would never forget it.

Somehow, who he was, the good and the bad—and she was one of the few who knew and believed there was good in him—was all right with her. She loved him. She loved him enough to accept him exactly as he was, even his fears, his faults, and his foibles. He didn't have to put on some kind of image to try to impress her. He had put on an image when they were young, when she was nineteen and he was trying to play the part of the sophisticated older man. He hadn't had a clue about life or love back then, so when he had realized that she had captured his heart and that he wanted to be with her because he was in love with her and not because he was trying to get ahead in her father's company, he had concentrated on projecting the image of the sophisticated older man he thought she fell in love with, not comprehending that she didn't love him because she thought he was a sophisticated older man; she loved him for him. It was no wonder he didn't understand or believe that Holly loved him for who he was, not who he was trying to be to impress her, though; back then, he had never yet had anyone in his life love him for who he was, except possibly his mother, and he still wasn't certain that even his mother had loved him for him.

He was still learning—he and Holly both were—but he had a lot more than a clue now. Holly didn't love him because he was some sophisticated older man. She never had. She loved him for who he was. All he had to be was himself. That was enough for her, just as he loved Holly for who she was, fears, faults, foibles and all, and that was enough for him.

It had taken him literally decades to learn not to lie to her. He recalled the big breakthrough he had with Holly in that regard last year, after six months in therapy and two months of being engaged to be engaged, right here at home, after she caught him in an all-things-considered-minor lie during his ill-advised pursuit of Spaulding Enterprises and called him on it…

**_{{_**_"Holly, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I mean, I had to think fast, and that's what came out. I don't blame you for being angry with me."_

_"Oh, I'm not angry. Not as angry as you think I am. Hey, you're getting better. You only kept the truth from me for twelve hours. I mean, who knows, we spend another couple months together, you may trust me enough to tell me the truth right on the spot."_

_"Holly, you know what? I'm getting to the point where I really believe I could do it right now. Honestly, I am so sorry that I underestimate you."_

_"You underestimate __**us**__," she corrected. She rubbed the pad of her thumb across his chin, then touched his face. "Don't look so remorseful. You're not so bad. You're getting better. And if I didn't believe that, I'd be long gone. But what I'm trying to get through this thick head of yours" she put her hands at his temples, her fingers tangling in the hair on the top of his head before sliding her hands down to his shoulders "is that I don't care, you can take a pickaxe to Spaulding, but __**we're **__gonna be all right if you learn to tell me the truth."_

_"Well, then, we're gonna be all right, because I will," he vowed. He put his arms around her then, and she snaked her arms around his waist as they looked into each other's eyes. "To say that things have been beyond my wildest dreams these past few months doesn't even come close to describing what it's been like for me. I mean, it's… I feel brand new, you know? I feel accepted. It's like, you opened me up, and you didn't like everything you saw, but you signed for the package anyway because the things that you did see that you didn't like, they were just things. They were just, like, human failings that everybody has. They weren't some sort of dark, unspeakable, unacceptable horror. And I feel like I could have a bad moment, or a bad week, and you'd still want to wake up next to me the next morning."_

_"You know, there are things about you I would never want to change. I adore the risk-taker that you are, and your passion, and your restlessness. I don't want you to become boring just so you can blend with me. I would just like certain significant adjustments."_

_"Like telling you the truth, and not keeping secrets."_

_"Those are probably the biggest ones for me, yes."_

_"Secrecy is a reflex with me. I expect to be disapproved of. I was secretive as a child, probably because my father automatically disapproved of everything I did."_

_"I'm not your father, Roger. I'm not your conscience. I'm your lover, and the woman who hopes to marry you one day."_

_"I know. I just… Be patient with me. I'll keep working at it."_

_"We both will," she said. "This is progress. And there's something I want you to keep in mind."_

_"What's that?" he asked._

_"You're the person I tell all my secrets to," she said. "You're the only one I __**want**__ to tell all my secrets to. And I want to be that person for you." Then she leaned up to kiss him, and he kissed her back, happy and relieved that she wasn't angry enough at him to give up on him or on them, and resolving to think about what she had said about telling secrets.__**}}**_

One thing Roger never expected to find out was that having somebody to tell all his secrets to, especially since that somebody was Holly, was satisfying in a way he never could have grasped twenty-five years ago. Dr. Janssen had driven home the point to both of them that sharing secrets fostered emotional intimacy in the relationship. To put it in plain English, it brought them closer.

He also learned the difference between a secret and a surprise. Holly taking him back to Cliff House for their honeymoon had been a surprise. Taking her to Martinelli's for dinner on Valentine's Day—a restaurant she had mentioned wanting to try with a monthlong waiting list for a table (thanks for the lessons in active listening, Dr. Janssen)—was a surprise.

He had a lot more to learn, but learning it didn't intimidate him nearly as much as it had when he and Holly had started therapy. Now **that** was a secret; he hadn't told her that yet. He really should.

He vowed that he would, when he saw her again…if he saw her again.

No, he corrected himself angrily. **Not** if. **When**. He would share this secret **when** they were together again, because they **would **be together again.

Alexandra Spaulding was most definitely a 'get even' kind of gal. But since it was him she wanted to punish, then she should have come after him, not Holly.

She would rue the day she decided that crossing swords with him by taking Holly from him was a good idea.

They had worked and fought for decades to find their way back to each other, and if Detective Cutter or Ross or anyone, even Chrissy, thought that he was going to just cool his heels and sit around waiting for the useless police department to buy a clue about where Holly was, they were wrong. To hell with the police's need for physical proof. He had given them a prime suspect with a long list of motives, and if they wouldn't do something about it, then he would. He would search the tunnels himself, and if he didn't find Holly there, then he would confront Alexandra directly and demand to know where she had taken Holly, because with each passing moment, his certainty that Alex was responsible for Holly's disappearance only grew.

"Dad, I've called Maureen, and she's coming over," Blake said then, bringing him back to the present. "We're going to take you to Company for an early dinner."

"I'm really not hungry, Chrissy," Roger said. Great, he thought, now he had to not only get rid of Chrissy and Ross, but Maureen too.

"Well, too bad, because we're not going to sit around here and stare at the walls until we hear something from the police," Blake replied. "You need to eat something. Just half a sandwich, or a bowl of soup. I don't care if all you eat are saltine crackers, you need food, Dad. You haven't eaten since yesterday. Mom will really be mad at me if I let you get sick. And Bridget's there, and Peter. You never turn down a chance to see Peter."

Any other time, Roger would welcome an unscheduled visit with his grandson, but not now. He had to get out of the house before Maureen got there. It would be hard enough getting past Chrissy and Ross, but Maureen would make it three against one, and he couldn't punch them all out just to get away.

Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, Roger said, "I'll just go and wash up before Maureen gets here."

"That's a good idea, Dad," Blake encouraged him. She sat down next to Ross on the couch with a sigh and laid her head on his shoulder. Roger went to the bathroom, waited two minutes, then cracked the door and peeked out. Chrissy and Ross were still seated on the couch, their backs to the bathroom door. Swiftly, silently, he crept out of the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, and into his and Holly's bedroom. He still had the flashlight he had used when he and Chrissy had searched the warehouses, but he detoured long enough to grab Holly's gun and a handful of bullets. Then he slid the bedroom window open, climbed out, and, cursing the fact that Ross's car was parked behind both his and Blake's cars, made the split second decision to hot wire it and deal with Ross later. Luckily, the driver's door was unlocked, and hot wiring the car took just a few seconds. He drove away from the house slowly, hoping to avoid detection for as long as possible, since he didn't doubt at all that Chrissy would know exactly where he was going. At least if Ross insisted on calling the police, they would end their exercise in futility, show up at the Spaulding Mansion, and maybe actually be of some use for a change once they had their physical proof that he was right about Alexandra being Holly's kidnapper.

When Maureen arrived, she hugged first Blake, then Ross in greeting. "Let me go and get Dad. He must be back in the bedroom," Blake said after noticing the bathroom door ajar. She headed back to her parents' bedroom, knocked on the closed door, and called, "Dad, Maureen's here! Let's go!" She entered the bedroom, but Roger wasn't there.

Then Blake noticed the open window. "You didn't," she said aloud. She had a horrible feeling of déjà vu as she checked the drawer where she knew they kept the gun and discovered that it was gone too. "Oh, my god!" Blake shouted, realizing in horror what was happening.

At her scream, Ross and Maureen both hurried down the hall to the bedroom. "Blake? What's wrong?" Maureen asked worriedly.

Blake looked at them, her face white as a sheet. "Dad's gone, and he took Mom's gun with him!" she exclaimed, gesturing to the open window.

Ross pivoted and rushed back to the living room. "Dammit!" he shouted, which brought Maureen and Blake rushing to the living room now. "My car's gone!" he exclaimed. "But I have the keys!" He held them up.

"You really think my father doesn't know how to hot wire a car?" Blake asked.

"Where do you think he went?" Maureen asked.

"I know where he went," Blake said. "He's convinced that Alexandra is the one who kidnapped my mother. He's on his way to the Spaulding Mansion right now!"

"Oh, Blake, do you really think so?" Maureen asked worriedly.

"I'm sure of it," Blake said. "We have to try to head him off!" Remembering Ross's earlier warning to her, she muttered, "So much for keeping things at the misdemeanor level."

"And I promised Cutter we'd keep a close watch on Roger," Ross said disgustedly as they hurried out of Holly and Roger's house. "We should have known he'd do something like this!"

"Well, now we have to try and stop him from doing something that'll land him in jail!" Blake exclaimed frantically.

"You're both too upset. I'll drive," Maureen said as they rushed to her car and piled in, Blake in the front seat, Ross in the back, Maureen at the wheel.

The brewing storm was about to break in more ways than one, Blake thought as she clenched and unclenched her fists anxiously in the passenger seat of Maureen's car. She prayed that whatever was about to happen, her parents would be safely back in each other's arms to stay when the storm finally subsided.

Meanwhile, Roger was already searching the first tunnel…and unbeknownst to him, Holly was in the tunnel beneath the wine cellar, which Roger didn't even know existed, half-conscious as she struggled onward toward where she prayed she would find an exit.


	13. Into the Disarray

_**Thanks to my trusty collaborator Mendys for her help with the Spauldings. **_

_April 11, 1995, 4:49 PM—Springfield Police Department_

"Hey, Spaulding, can I ask you a question?" Frank Cooper inquired as Faith crossed another name off the list. When she looked up at him, he continued, "When did Alexandra decide to have work done on the mansion?"

"First I heard of it was earlier, from Levy," she replied. "Do you know what they were doing?"

Frank shook his head. "Something about it is bugging me now."

"Let me call Fletcher, ask if he knows what company she used," Faith said, reaching for the phone on her desk. "And go get Levy. You and he can question the workers, since I'm not supposed to, or you can take Metzger and talk to them. Here, let me put it on speaker."

"You don't need to do that," Frank said, knowing exactly why she wasn't calling the mansion to speak to anyone in her family.

"Yes, I do," Faith replied. When Fletcher answered, Faith got right to the point. "Fletcher, it's Faith Spaulding. There were some workmen at the mansion this morning when you went to see Alexandra?"

"Yeah, there were," Fletcher replied.

"Fletcher, Frank Cooper," Frank piped up. "What were they doing there? Do you know?"

"They were bricking up the wine cellar," Fletcher replied.

"What?" Faith asked. "The wine cellar is full and in use. Why would they brick it up?"

"Not that wine cellar," Fletcher said. "The old one. The one that hasn't been used in years. It used to be a bomb shelter."

"There's an unused wine cellar at the mansion?" Faith asked. She had grown up there and had never known that.

"Yeah, emphasis on 'unused,'" Fletcher replied. "It's been at least five years since that was used as a wine cellar."

Faith, shaken up and trying not to show it, said, "Do you know the name of the company doing the work, Fletcher?"

"Weston and Sons," Fletcher replied. Frank scribbled it on the notepad on Faith's desk. Fletcher paused for a beat, then said, "Does this have anything to do with your investigation into Holly's disappearance?"

Frank saw the stricken look on Faith's face. "Fletcher, you **have** to sit on this information. Holly's life may depend on it."

"If it's that serious, I won't say a word until I get your express permission, Frank," Fletcher promised.

"The department appreciates your cooperation, Fletcher, thank you very much," Frank replied. After exchanging goodbyes, he ended the call, then focused his attention on Faith, who looked shaken but determined. "Don't jump to any conclusions here. We'll call the company. Maybe they were just checking the structural integrity."

"You don't believe that any more than I do," Faith said.

"You're right, I don't," Frank admitted. "But I know I'd appreciate the thought if we were talking about my father right now."

"That's where Holly is," Faith said. "At the mansion in this second wine cellar I never knew about."

Levy approached them then. "The last of the alibi checks came back, and everyone's stories check out." Seeing the looks on Faith's and Frank's faces, Levy asked, "Something the two of you want to share?"

"What were those workers doing at the Spaulding Mansion, did you ask?" Frank wanted to know.

"No," Levy replied. "We could hear them, but we didn't talk to them. We were in a hurry to cover our bases because of Thorpe."

"We need to call in a search warrant for the mansion," Faith said.

"After we talk to these workers," Frank said. "Otherwise the judge will laugh us out of the room." He looked to Levy. "Come on, we're going to interview some bricklayers, and we have to hurry."

_April 11, 1995, 5:19 PM—Tunnel Under the Wine Cellar_

Holly was tired. She didn't think she'd ever been this tired in her life, not even when Blake had colic as a baby and didn't sleep more than two hours at a stretch for nearly her whole first year. She remembered thinking back then that she would never sleep through the night uninterrupted again, and in a way she had been right, because Blake didn't sleep through the night uninterrupted until she was three years old, so Holly had had to relearn how to sleep without automatically rousing herself every two to four hours as Blake got older.

She wanted to stop and rest, but between her tiredness, her dizziness, and her pounding headache, she knew she couldn't. She had to keep moving, though she was certain there were slugs outside that were moving faster than she was right now.

_Keep going_, she admonished herself. _You have to keep going._

She crawled another agonizing few inches forward in the darkness and dirt.

Needing to try to catch her breath, she collapsed face down, arms stretched out in front of her as far as she could make them reach, and her reflexes were so slow that it took a few minutes for her to register the feel of wetness on her fingertips.

Wetness.

Water.

Water!

She forced her head up, and in the distance (of course, her depth perception was way off because of her headache and dizziness, so it was actually just a few more feet) she saw a dim light.

Light! Blessed light!

The light had to be coming from outside!

Her throat was too dry for her laugh of triumph to have any sound, but she felt the rumble in her chest. She was almost there! She could see the literal light at the end of the tunnel, and on the other side of that tunnel was her family, her freedom, and plenty of water, and right now, she was thirsty enough to drink the entire Springfield River in all its muddy, polluted disgustingness.

She moved another few inches forward, battling the dizziness and pain, forcing her continuously weakening body to keep moving.

Then she heard a beautiful sound: the sound of a heavy, steady rain pouring outside.

The light was getting brighter. It was pouring rain. She was going to get out of here.

Sliding forward again, now on her stomach, seeking purchase on the dirty ground, her diminished reflexes were again slow to register the identity of the substance oozing between her fingers now. Finally, her sluggish brain recognized the cold, clammy mass dribbling through her fingers.

It was mud.

The light was brighter still, mud was dripping from her fingertips, and now she could smell the rain in addition to hearing it. Head down, she crawled through a puddle of mud, soaking her clothes, and she didn't stop until her head literally bumped something hard.

Though her eyes were having trouble focusing, she began clawing at the hard thing with trembling, muddy fingers.

A door. Not a full-sized door, like on a room in the house—_house, home, Roger, Blake, water, focus, Holly, you've __**got**__ to focus—_but this was obviously the way out.

Fingers scrabbling at the wooden surface, she didn't even register the splinters that dug themselves into her hands. She finally touched cold metal. Doorknob. She twisted the knob and pulled, but it wouldn't move.

She bowed her head, bit her lip, and sent up a prayer:_God, I'm __**at the door**__. A little help, please?_

She felt above and below the doorknob…and there it was.

A sliding lock. What were they called? She couldn't remember, but it didn't matter.

Slide it open. Push. Come on. _Push it, unlock it, door opens, you're out of here. _

She lost count of how many tries it took her recalcitrant fingers to unlock it, but she finally heard the snick that meant she had succeeded.

This time when she twisted the doorknob, the door opened. It opened toward her, hitting her in the forehead, but that knock in the forehead made her slightly more alert. She'd have a bruise there, she was sure, but…

But what?

It didn't matter. The door was open, and the rain was coming in, drenching her knees and thighs since she was sitting on her heels.

She squeezed through the open door on her hands and knees, and landed face down in a patch of wet grass, in the middle of a driving rainstorm.

The rain didn't do much to revive her, and when she tipped her head back and opened her mouth, she barely caught any rain, certainly nowhere near enough to quench her powerful thirst. She probably hadn't been outside for more than 30 seconds and she was already soaked to the skin, but she was free!

As she sat there on that patch of grass on the expansive Spaulding lawn getting drenched by the pouring rain, Holly began trying to gather enough energy to get up, get out of there, and find her way home to her husband and daughter.

_April 11, 1995, 5:27 PM—The Spaulding Mansion_

Roger exited the second tunnel, having found no trace of Holly, and stalked through the mansion, bent on tracking down Alexandra and getting answers out of her once and for all.

Alexandra was in the library with Alan, Hope, Nick, and Alan-Michael, having a drink before dinner, when suddenly the door flew open, banging against the wall. A flash of lightning outside illuminated Roger standing in the doorway, looking disheveled and glaring at Alexandra with hard eyes. "Where's Holly, Alex? What have you done with her?" he demanded.

"Roger, you can't just barge into our home like this!" Hope exclaimed. Alan, Alan-Michael, and Nick exchanged looks and all three men stood up, preparing to physically escort Roger from the premises.

"I'm not leaving here without my wife!" Roger insisted. "Where is she, Alex?"

"Alan-Michael, call the police," Alan directed his son.

Alan-Michael took one step toward the phone, then stopped when Roger pulled out his gun. "Don't take another step," he warned Alan-Michael. "I'm waiting, Alex."

Alexandra laughed the same maniacal cackle she had laughed in Holly's face in the wine cellar the night before. "You don't **really** think I'm going to tell you, do you?" she asked.

"She can't tell you, Roger, because she doesn't know where Holly is!" Nick exclaimed.

"Oh, I know where she is, Nick," Alex replied. "I'm just not going to tell **him**." She sniffed disdainfully, her eyes glittering with hate as she looked at Roger.

The other four Spauldings exchanged horrified looks as they realized what Alexandra was saying. "Aunt Alex, come on. You're…you're joking," Alan-Michael said weakly.

"The joke is on Roger," Alex said triumphantly, not taking her eyes from Roger. "It's called payback. Because of you I lost my father's house, my father's company, my position as CEO in my father's company. You took everything that mattered to me. Now I've taken everything that matters to you. Now you'll finally know how it feels to suffer the way you made me suffer!"

Roger raised the gun. Hope screamed. Alan pulled her into his arms to shield her. Alan-Michael and Nick threw themselves on the floor. Roger fired, shooting a painting off the wall.

"That was an original Van Gogh!" Alan exclaimed, outraged.

Ignoring him, Roger focused on Alexandra with the intensity of a laser beam. "I want my wife back, Alex. **Now.**"

"You can't have her!" Alex snarled.

It was at that precise moment that Blake, Ross, and Maureen came running into the library, screaming, **"Dad!" "Roger!" "Roger!"**

"Roger, put the gun down!" Maureen pleaded.

"Not until I get answers," Roger refused, not turning to look at Maureen.

"Alexandra," Nick said as he got to his feet, "if you know where Holly is, then you have to tell us."

"I will do no such thing! He hasn't suffered enough!" Alex exclaimed, jabbing a finger at Roger.

"You were right! She **did **take Mom!" Blake exclaimed. "You tell us where she is, Alexandra!"

"None of you get it!" Alexandra shouted, frustrated. "I have had to put up with Roger Thorpe getting away with taking and taking and taking from me and mine for **years**. It was all just a game to you, wasn't it, Roger? The mansion, the company, the money."

"But you have it all back!" Roger shouted. "And I don't want it anymore! I'm not going to try to take any of it away from you anymore!"

"You really expect me to believe that?" Alex retorted.

"I know you have no reason to believe me, but I swear it's true!" Roger exclaimed. "Whether you believe me or not, though, why did you go after Holly? Why didn't you come at me directly?"

"Because Holly is your reason for being!" Alexandra exclaimed. "Coming after you wouldn't give me any satisfaction, because you wouldn't **care** about me hurting you. I could have struck at you, but it wouldn't have made an impact. It certainly never has in the past, no!

"But going after Holly…well, I think we can see the effect **that** has had on you." Alexandra's eyes had a feral gleam. "Just look at yourself, Roger. You're a wreck. You've barely slept, you probably haven't eaten, you're all rumpled and unshaven. Yes, you're in true agony. And it's about time!"

"Alexandra," Maureen said, verbally wading into the fray now, "you and Holly used to be friends."

"Acapulco took care of that," Alex replied tightly. "And any residual feeling of goodwill I may have found it in my heart to feel towards her after that disappeared the day she asked me to drop the fraud charges against Roger. Tell me something, Roger, was that your idea, did you send Holly over here to plead your case, or was she already so stupidly in love with you again that she came here on her own? She actually had the unmitigated gall to say to me that day that you couldn't hurt me anymore. Well, she was wrong there, wasn't she? The one time I actually needed you, so that I could keep Alan from taking back the CEO chair, you couldn't be bothered. You were too busy falling all over Holly, and I mean that literally!"

Roger fired the gun again, shattering a lamp this time, making Alan-Michael and Nick dive for the floor again as Hope, Blake, and Maureen screamed.

"You can shoot down the entire mansion for all I care," Alexandra said airily. "I'm not telling you a thing."

"Oh, the mansion? The mansion that you just informed me you still hold it against me for taking away from you years ago?" Roger asked. "You can't have it both ways, Alex! Either hate me for giving up all things Spaulding, or hate me for taking all things Spaulding away from you, even though you have them all back now."

"Holly said the same thing. How sweet, you're even thinking alike now," Alex sneered.

Ross stepped forward then. "Roger, put down the gun," he said. Roger lowered the gun, but didn't put it down. Then Ross looked to Alexandra. "Alex, what were you trying to accomplish by taking Holly?"

"Revenge, Ross!" Alex shouted. "Payback! Roger took everything from me, everything that my father spent a lifetime building, and every time, every **single** time, it looked like justice was **finally **going to be served and Roger would pay for all the things that he did, for all the crimes he committed against me, against my family, against my father's company, he slithered away like the serpent that he is. He never paid for a damned thing. And he was always so smug about it, lording it over me, and over all of you too, how he got away with it."

"Except for the day Nick signed WSPR over to Holly, I haven't even seen you in months! I've stayed away from you! I've built my own life, my own company, and none of it revolves around Spaulding Enterprises anymore!" Roger reminded her.

"And you couldn't keep your mouth shut that day either, could you, Roger?" Alan said angrily then.

Nick frowned at Roger. "What did you say to Alexandra that day?" he wanted to know.

"You took Holly because I made some remarks to you at the country club bar?" Roger asked incredulously.

"Have you not been paying attention? I took Holly because she is now the only thing in the world that means everything to you!" Alex screamed. "You took everything that mattered to me away from me, and now I've taken everything that matters to you away from you! Nothing and no one else will **ever** make you hurt the way losing Holly will, and I want you to suffer, the way you made me suffer! You stole my family's legacy, you stole my son's birthright! I still have to fight Alan and Alan-Michael to insure Nick's place at Spaulding, but it all started with **you**, Roger. Your bill finally came due, with compounded interest, and I am collecting!"

Alan and Alan-Michael both looked guilty as the import of Alexandra's words hit them both. Everyone else looked horrified, with the exception of Roger, whose expression was a mix of outrage and franticness.

"Alexandra," Hope said then, "please tell us where Holly is. This…this standoff isn't doing any of us any good." Roger had already shot a painting off the wall and shattered a lamp. She didn't want him shooting a person next. Holly needed to be found and returned to her family, and Alexandra obviously needed more help than the family could give her, and the sooner she got that help, the better.

"Do you want me to beg? Is that what it's going to take?" he asked Alexandra. "Then I'll beg. Please, Alexandra, tell me where Holly is, right now."

"It wouldn't matter to me if you got down on your knees and cried," Alex said. "I'm not going to tell you." She focused on Roger then. "You know, ever since she returned to WSPR, she's become quite the creature of habit, your precious Holly. Out of there almost every night by 6 to rush home to you."

"So you not only kidnapped my mother, you stalked her too?" Blake shouted, incensed.

"I planned this for weeks," Alex bragged. "It had to go off without a hitch." She gave Roger a feral grin then. "She made it very easy for me. Oh, she put up a bit of a struggle in that parking lot, but not very much of one, really. And a little chloroform goes a long way, although I did begin to wonder if she was ever going to wake up." Roger's fingers spasmed on the handle of the revolver again as he reminded himself that shooting Alex would be counterproductive, because it wouldn't get him answers, and it would get him a one-way ticket to jail. "Don't worry, she did. **_Finally_**. But her accommodations are what you would call subpar. After all, you didn't expect me to put her up at the Springfield Inn, did you? And she had no food, no water. She was all tied up the last time I saw her, too. Yes, a very dire predicament for your lovely wife…one that she had absolutely no chance of getting herself out of."

Blake moved so fast, it took Ross and Maureen several seconds to catch up with her, but they each managed to grab one of her arms and haul her out of striking distance of Alexandra before she could wrap her hands around Alex's throat.

The Spauldings were all dismayed, realizing as they were now confronted with incontrovertible proof of just how sick Alexandra truly was, that they were all too late to stop this madness. All this time, each of them had thought, had honestly believed, that Alex had been dealing with the disappointments and trials of the past several months, and now they were finding out—and at Holly's expense, and as much as they all despied Roger, they also all knew that Holly didn't deserve what Alexandra had just confessed to having done to her—that not only had Alexandra not dealt with any of these disappointments and trials, but she was also still obsessing over the many sins Roger Thorpe had committed against their family. It wasn't that any of them had forgiven Roger for what he had done: his part in sending Alan to prison, away from his wife and children for five long years; stealing the company and the house; embezzling from the Spaulding Foundation; the way that he had tried to use both Phillip and Faith, who had been just a teenager then, to gain entrée to the family in the first place when he had first returned to Springfield years ago. These were not things that Alan, Hope, Phillip, Alan-Michael or Faith had ever forgiven, much less forgotten. But none of them had taken their anger at or lack of forgiveness toward Roger to the extreme that Alexandra had just announced that she had.

Tension crackled in the air in the room the way lightning was crackling in the sky outside.

Ross and Maureen were very worried for Holly, and for Blake, whose seething anger was radiating from her whole body in waves, though she had gone stonily silent and was no longer fighting to get her arms free from their combined grasp, and even for Roger, who still held the gun, though it was pointed at the floor, at least for now. But Ross and Maureen were also the only two people in that room who could find it in themselves to be even remotely rational at the moment.

But as far gone as Alexandra obviously was, would rational, calm talking get an answer out of her where Roger's threats, punctuated by his gun, and Blake's attempt at getting physical, had failed?

_April 11, 1995, 5:37 PM—Springfield Police Department_

Just as Frank and Levy returned from questioning the bricklayers who had been at the Spaulding Mansion that morning with enough to go to a judge and get a search warrant, Sergeant Crawford answered a call about shots fired at the Spaulding Mansion.

"Spaulding, you know that you can't go," Cutter told Faith as she prepared to head out.

"It's my family, Cutter!" she exclaimed. "I'll stay in the background. I won't be there as an officer. You know as well as I do that Roger Thorpe is probably the one firing the shots."

"All the more reason for you **not** to get involved, after what happened here earlier today," Cutter reminded her. "You're not going. Cooper, Metzger, Crawford, Levy, Woods, Lawson, Hendrickson, Park, let's go!"

Faith waited until all of her fellow officers had responded to the call.

Then she jumped in a black-and-white and took off for the mansion herself, pedal to the metal, lights flashing, siren wailing at full power.

_April 11, 1995, 5:45 PM—Spaulding Mansion, Exterior Grounds_

Holly was so disoriented that she didn't realize she'd been wandering in circles until she saw the police cars come roaring up. Several officers in foul weather gear alighted from the squad cars and began surrounding the mansion. One officer, wearing a trenchcoat over a suit instead of a uniform and holding a…she knew what those things were called, they were like a portable speaker, used to make your voice louder so people could hear you; not a microphone, but she just couldn't think of the right word…

Anyway, the trenchcoat officer with the speaker thing was hurrying toward the rest of his officers, but then he saw something and abruptly veered off, rushing toward her.

When Patrick Cutter noticed the lone figure who appeared to be wandering aimlessly about the broad expanse of the Spauldings' lawn, he immediately changed direction and headed toward the figure at a fast clip. Whoever the person was, it was obviously a woman, and when she stumbled, Cutter rushed to catch her before she landed face first in a large puddle standing on the lawn. Then he got a good look at the woman, and he was shocked.

It was Holly Thorpe!

A cursory look revealed that she had several splinters in her hands, her clothes were covered in mud, dust, and cobwebs and soaked to her skin, and even with the rain coming down steadily, the fact that she looked like a drowned rat meant she had obviously been out here for a while.

"Mrs. Thorpe, it's Detective Cutter!" he shouted, to be heard over the rain.

She looked up at him, confused, like she didn't know who he was or how he knew her name. He noticed how pale she looked. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

"Come with me, Mrs. Thorpe. We're going to get you to the hospital," he said. She obviously needed medical attention. "Cooper!" he called to Frank as he began ushering Holly toward one of the black-and-whites. "Call a bus right away!" Frank nodded and headed to the nearest black-and-white to radio for an ambulance.

Another black-and-white screeched to a halt, and Cutter recognized the officer who jumped out of the driver's seat even from a distance. Muttering a curse under his breath, he shouted, "Spaulding, stand down!"

Then a gunshot was heard from inside the mansion. Faith ignored Cutter, drew her weapon, kicked the front door in, and disappeared from sight.

The gunshot seemed to also snap Holly Thorpe out of her daze, because she gave Cutter a look of alarm and then began staggering toward the mansion herself.

"Cooper, Levy, Crawford, Metzger, cover!" Cutter shouted as he hurried after Holly, drawing his own weapon.

Holly didn't have to be told who was firing a gun inside the mansion. She knew it was Roger. She hoped he hadn't shot anyone. She refused to get out of her prison just to see Roger hauled off to his own.

A surge of adrenaline carried her up the stairs and into the mansion, and she stumbled in the direction of the angry voices she heard shouting over each other, feeling all the while like she was swimming through Jell-o as the voices fought, yelling over each other, gaining both speed and anger.

"I said drop it, Roger! We're waiting on a search warrant for the mansion!"

"You're lying, **_Officer_****.** You'll say anything, you'll do anything, to protect **her**, to protect your family." She was right; Roger **was **here, and he did have a gun.

"You're going to search here for Holly?"

"Yes, Nick, as soon as the warrant comes in. Alexandra, what can you tell me about the first wine cellar that was built in this mansion?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really? Because Frank Cooper and Detective Levy spoke with the workmen you had here this morning bricking up the entrance to the second wine cellar."

"Alan, we have a second wine cellar?"

"Alexandra, that's what those workmen were doing here?"

**"You bricked my mother up in a wine cellar?!"**

"Blake, calm down."

"**Don't** tell me to calm down, Ross! She bricked my mother up in a wine cellar!"

"Technically, it was the first wine cellar. Our father added the second one the second time he started adding on to the mansion. Faith, what does this have to do with anything?"

"That's where she is, isn't it, Alexandra? That's where you stashed Holly after you took her."

"Even if I did, there's no way out of there now! The only entrance is sealed off!"

"Blake!"

"Blake!"

"Let go of me!"

"I told you I would make you suffer, Roger. How does it feel? How does it feel, knowing you've lost everything?"

Holly finally reached the doorway of the library and, falling through it, she used what was left of her adrenaline surge to force one harshly whispered word from her parched throat: "Roger."

Roger whipped his head around at the sound, just in time to see Holly start to fall. He dropped his gun, leapt across the room, and caught her just before she hit the ground.

Blake broke free of the stunned Ross and Maureen and rushed across the room to her parents.

Cutter holstered his weapon and gingerly maneuvered his way around the Thorpes to enter the library. "I found her wandering around outside," he said.

Roger, Holly in his arms, sank to the floor as gently as he could. "Holly! Holly, can you hear me? Honey?" he asked frantically as he laid her in his lap. But she was unconscious. She was pale, making the ugly purple bruise on her forehead stand out all the more, drenched to the bone, covered in mud, and unresponsive. Roger gently stroked her cheek and exclaimed, "She's burning up!"

"Call an ambulance!" Blake shouted frantically.

"It's on its way," Cutter replied.

**"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !"** Alexandra shrieked. "That's impossible! She couldn't have gotten out. She **couldn't!** The door was locked from the outside and sealed up with a brick wall! And she was tied up!" Alexandra slammed her hands down on the desk in frustration. **"He hasn't suffered enough yet!"** She continued ranting and raving against Roger and Holly both now.

The Spauldings all looked at Alexandra, alarmed, as Roger and Blake tried in vain to rouse Holly. Ross and Maureen were silent, their gazes swinging back and forth from the agitated Alexandra to the worried, terrified Roger and Blake pleading with Holly to wake up.

Suddenly, two paramedics burst into the room with a gurney and medical supplies. Seeing Holly, the duo dropped down to the floor, where Roger was still sitting, holding her across his lap. "Is this your wife, sir?" one of the paramedics asked.

"Yes," Roger replied. "She's burning up and she's unconscious!" He was still holding onto her protectively.

"You're going to have to let her go so we can help her, sir," the paramedic replied.

Roger gathered Holly up, rose from the floor and laid her gently on the gurney, gazing down at her worriedly as her head lolled limply to one side until the paramedics jostled him aside to start working on her. Blake peered over her father's shoulder, her fear and anguish for her mother etched deeply into her face. Neither Roger nor Blake understood half of what the paramedics were saying as they rapidly ministered to Holly, not being conversant in medical terminology, but they both understood "rapid pulse," "high fever" and "severe dehydration" well enough.

In the meantime, Alexandra was still carrying on her tirade against Roger and Holly, shouting at the top of her lungs, becoming increasingly agitated and manic and insisting, "I **had **to commandeer Holly to punish Roger! Nothing else ever worked! He had to pay for all he's done, and this was **the only way**!"

"Cutter, Alexandra has confessed to kidnapping Holly Thorpe," Faith said quietly.

Cutter nodded. "We'll have to take her into custody."

They both heard Hope then. "Alan, I think Alexandra needs to go to Cedars, too. We can't help her when she's like this." Alexandra was still ranting and raving against Roger and Holly, shouting at the top of her lungs, and completely ignoring Nick's and Alan-Michael's attempts to calm her down.

"She saw the Chief of Psychiatry on Valentine's Day. I'm sure he'll be called in again," Faith said.

"She won't be officially charged and booked until after the outcome of a psychiatric evaluation," Cutter agreed. He removed his handcuffs from his belt, and Faith watched somberly as he approached her aunt, brother and cousin. "Alexandra Spaulding, I'm placing you under arrest for the kidnapping of Holly Lindsey-Thorpe," he said.

"What!" Nick exploded.

"Seriously?" Alan-Michael asked.

"Is this really, truly necessary?" Hope asked. "She needs to go to Cedars, not the police station!"

"I've already called for another ambulance, and it will be here momentarily, Mrs. Spaulding," Cutter replied. "She will be taken to Cedars." He had slipped out of the library after the paramedics arrived and began working on Holly to call for the other ambulance and inform Frank, Levy, and the other officers that Holly had been found.

Alan looked to Faith. "Is there anything you can do?" he asked.

Faith shook her head grimly. "Pending the outcome of a full psychiatric evaluation, Alexandra is under arrest for the kidnapping of Holly Lindsey-Thorpe," she said.

"You have the right to remain silent," Cutter said to Alexandra. "Anything you say, to anyone, can be used against you. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you by the state. Do you understand these rights?"

Across the room, Blake asked the paramedics, ""Can you radio ahead to Cedars and have Ed Bauer meet you in the ER?"

"He's working tonight," Maureen piped up.

"Yeah, we definitely will," one of the paramedics said.

"Is she going to be all right?" Roger demanded.

"She's in rough shape," the other paramedic answered. "But they'll do everything they can for her at Cedars. Let's roll." He looked at Roger and Blake. "We only have room for one family member in the ambulance."

Blake squeezed her father's shoulder. "You go, Daddy. I'll be right behind you," she said.

Roger glared at the Spauldings. "This isn't over," he said.

"Oh, you can say that again!" Nick retorted.

"This definitely isn't over," Alan added, giving Roger a hate-filled look.

As the paramedics rushed Holly outside, Roger hurrying along beside her gurney, Blake watched them go, hugging herself and looking more scared than she had since this ordeal had started. Ross put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. "We need to go," Blake said, looking at him with her eyes shining with unshed tears. Ross nodded, and Maureen exchanged glances with Hope before following Blake and Ross out of the library to the car.

Detective Cutter handcuffed Alexandra just as the paramedics from the second ambulance came rushing in. As they moved in to get a preliminary evaluation of Alexandra's condition, Alan looked bleakly at Hope. "I've never seen her like this, ever," he said, "not even when we were younger."

Hope wrapped her arm around his shoulders as Nick and Alan-Michael, both looking angrier than she'd seen either of them look in a long time, joined them. "We're going to get Alexandra the help she needs," Hope pledged.

"How could none of us have seen this?" Alan asked painfully. "How did we miss all the signs?"

"I don't think it's so much that we missed them, Dad," Alan-Michael replied. "We didn't know at the time that that's what they were."

"If Roger Thorpe thinks he's having Alexandra locked up and the key thrown away, he's got another think coming!" Nick seethed.

"Alexandra will not go to jail," Hope said determinedly. She headed over to the desk, picked up the phone, and as Alan, Alan-Michael, and Nick watched, punched in a number. When the person on the other end of the line answered, Hope said, "Hello, Dad? Something's happened, and we really need your help here….No, I'm fine, and so are the kids, and so is Alan. It's Alexandra." Alan relaxed marginally when he realized that Hope was talking to her father, because Ross obviously couldn't get involved, considering he was married to Holly's daughter, and truthfully, Alan knew no finer attorney than Mike Bauer. Alexandra would not see the inside of a jail cell with Mike defending her, no matter what Roger Thorpe might try.

It was still pouring rain outside as the paramedics bundled Holly into the ambulance. Roger settled himself on the bench beside the paramedic who continued to monitor her condition as the other paramedic, at the wheel, hit the lights and siren, radioed ahead to Cedars asking for Ed Bauer to meet them in ER, and then they roared off to the hospital through the stormy night, Maureen, Blake and Ross following behind.

The Thorpes, Marlers, and Maureen Bauer had all just left the property when Alexandra and Nick were escorted to the second ambulance and whisked to Cedars, Alan, Hope and Alan-Michael following behind in their own vehicles.

Faith stayed behind to get a lecture from Detective Cutter on ignoring orders and racing into the mansion without proper backup after hearing the last gunshot fired, but eventually she, Cutter, Frank, and Metzger found their way to Cedars too, while Levy, Crawford, Hendrickson, Park, Woods, and Lawson finished up at the mansion and then headed back to the station.


	14. Welcome to the Fallout

_April 11, 1995, 6:06 PM—Ambulance En Route to Cedars Hospital_

Desperate for some physical connection to Holly, since the paramedic was constantly checking her vital signs in her torso and arms, Roger gently rubbed her calves, not taking his eyes from her pale, unmoving form as the ambulance raced to Cedars. A memory came to him unbidden of talking with her in bed after they had officially gotten back together...

**_{{_**_"Well, I'll tell you, there's something that I believe," Holly said as she lightly brushed the white rose from the now-forgotten breakfast tray across his chin. _

_ "Yes?" he asked. _

_ "That sometimes, there's a connection between people, and when you were lurching around with a bullet in you, I kept thinking about you, and I was praying for you, and I __**willed**__ you to come back…to come back to me. So you can believe that, if you like."_

_ "I like. I will believe that," he said before leaning down to kiss her.__**}}**_

"I'm here, Holly," he said firmly, not caring that the paramedic tending to her could hear him, "and I love you, and you're safe now, and you're gonna be all right. I'll be right here by your side, willing you to come back to me the way you willed me to come back to you after I was shot." She didn't respond in any way, but he believed that she heard him.

The ambulance slowed as they pulled up to the ER entrance. Roger could see Ed Bauer and Eve Guthrie waiting outside. They both hated him, Eve had never gotten along with Holly, and they would never be Roger's favorite people, but he knew he could trust both Ed and Eve not to let their personal feelings stop them from doing whatever they could to help Holly. The thought gave him some small measure of comfort as the back doors to the ambulance were thrown open.

* * *

_April 11, 1995, 6:09 PM—Cedars Hospital, Emergency Room_

Standing in the ambulance bay just outside the ER, Ed and Eve were both shocked when the paramedics threw open the ambulance doors and they saw who was lying on the gurney inside: an unconscious Holly Lindsey-Thorpe, with a clearly distressed Roger Thorpe sitting on the edge of the bench next to her, holding onto her legs. "Holly!" Ed blurted, astonished.

"What do we have?" Eve asked briskly.

"Mr. Thorpe, you're going to **have** to let go of your wife!" the paramedic who had ridden in the back of the ambulance with Roger and Holly exclaimed exasperatedly, in a way that let Ed and Eve know this was not the first time the request had been made. Roger reluctantly let go of Holly as the ambulance driver jumped up into the ambulance and helped his partner off-load the gurney carrying her.

"44-year-old female, unconscious, severe dehydration!" shouted the first paramedic as they rushed Holly into the ER and then into a cubicle, with Eve and a now recovered Ed running alongside Holly's gurney, and the frantic Roger chasing after them. "Fever of 102, blood pressure 90 over 60, respirations 25, and she's tachycardic—pulse is 120 and thready."

Roger nearly knocked Lillian Raines flat on the floor as he followed Holly, Ed, Eve, and the paramedics into an empty ER cubicle. He stood in the corner watching anxiously as Ed and Eve poked and prodded at Holly. Lillian hurried into the cubicle then, brushing past Roger to join Ed and Eve in working on Holly.

"I want a CBC, and a complete blood chemistries profile, stat! The lab needs to get us those results five minutes ago!" Ed shouted. Lillian sprang into action, finding a vein in Holly's arm, jabbing a needle into it, and then rushing the blood to the lab to be tested. Roger felt sick watching this, and it wasn't only because of his aversion to needles.

Eve pinched the skin on the back of Holly's hand and frowned. "Her skin is very dry and has very poor elasticity. She's lost way too much fluid. Start plasma to get her blood volume back up, a large-bore Lactated Ringer's IV to replenish her fluids and electrolytes, and push ibuprofen for the fever, now!"

Roger felt like he was drowning on dry land as he watched Ed, Eve, and Lillian work in tandem on Holly, jabbing IVs into the backs of both of her hands, then injecting something into one of them, spouting off all this medical terminology that might as well be in Swahili for all he understood of it, and through it all, Holly remained motionless, looking so pale and small on that gurney surrounded by medical personnel, wires, tubes, and machines.

"What are these, splinters?" Ed asked, getting a good look at Holly's right hand, then checking her left. "Lillian, get these splinters out of her fingers! Her right hand is full of them, and there are a few in her left hand too!" Ed exclaimed. Lillian hurried out of the cubicle, returning seconds later with a pair of tweezers and a small container and began removing the splinters from Holly's hands.

Ed spared Roger a glance while Eve quickly attached the leads to a heart monitor that would give readouts of her heartbeat, pulse rate, and blood pressure to Holly's chest. "What the hell happened to her, Roger?" Ed demanded.

"Alexandra Spaulding," Roger said bitterly. "That's what the hell happened to her, Ed."

Before Ed could ask Roger to elaborate, the heart monitor, now receiving signals from the leads attached to Holly's chest, started beeping like crazy. "She's shocky!" Eve shouted, her gaze flicking to the monitor before she pressed her fingers to the side of Holly's neck, taking her pulse. "Pulse is 130 and still thready! She needs an aggressive infusion of fluids right now!"

"Open up the fluids and plasma all the way!" Ed directed as he yanked open a drawer and removed an oxygen mask. Eve rushed to adjust the flow of both IVs dripping into Holly. "I'm starting 100% oxygen through a mask. Nasal cannula won't be enough," Ed said as he deftly hooked the mask to the oxygen tank in the corner, then wheeled it to Holly's side.

"What's happening?" Roger shouted.

"Lillian, get him out of here, now!" Ed directed as he placed the oxygen mask over Holly's nose and mouth and turned the valve on the oxygen tank up all the way.

"Roger, you'll have to wait outside," Lillian said as she tried to usher him out of the cubicle.

Roger planted his feet and ignored her, looking over her shoulder. "I'm not leaving my wife!" he yelled.

"Roger, you are in the way here!" Ed yelled back, not taking his eyes off Holly as he adjusted the oxygen mask. The monitor was still beeping far too much for Roger's liking, even though he didn't know exactly what the beeping meant. "Lillian, get him out! Call Security if you have to!"

Roger's last glimpse of Holly was of Eve wrapping a blood pressure cuff around her arm as Ed frowned at the numbers on the heart monitor before adjusting the fluid IV again.

Then Lillian pushed Roger into the hall. "You're going to **have** to wait out here," she said firmly. Blake, Ross, and Maureen came rushing up then.

"How is my mother?" Blake asked worriedly.

"We're doing everything we can to get her stabilized," Lillian replied. "One of us will be out to tell you what's going on as soon as she **is **stable."

"And when will that be?" Roger demanded.

"I can't say," Lillian replied. "Now, I'm sorry, Roger, but you—**all** of you," she added when she saw the determined glint in Blake's eyes, "are going to have to wait here. Holly is in the best possible hands, and we will let you know as soon as we have any news." Then Lillian turned on her heel, rushed back into the cubicle, and closed the curtain behind her.

"Daddy, did they say anything new?" Blake asked, grabbing her father by the arms and pulling him around to face her. "Has Mom woken up at all? Has her fever gone down any?"

Roger looked at Blake grimly. "Her fever is high, her pulse is weak, her blood pressure is low, they've got her on IV fluids, blood plasma, and oxygen," he said, "and no, she's not awake yet."

The quartet turned to look when the curtain rattled open again. "What is it? Is she awake? Is she all right?" Roger asked as Lillian exited the cubicle once more.

"We're still working on her," Lillian replied. "I just came out to give you these." She pressed a small yellow envelope into Roger's hand, then went back into the cubicle and pulled the curtain again.

Roger opened the envelope, peered inside, and let out a shuddering breath that was half sob. "What is it, Daddy?" Blake asked frantically.

Wordlessly, Roger poured the contents of the envelope into the palm of his right hand.

Holly's engagement and wedding rings.

Roger saw Holly in his mind's eye then, moving her engagement ring from her right hand to her left hand on Christmas Eve and looking at him with sparkling eyes as she said, "I'm ready. Let's get married." That image of her faded into an image of her on their wedding day, her hands in his, his trembling fingers taking the solid band of white gold now resting in his palm from the Justice of the Peace and sliding it onto her finger. He recalled the feel of the cool metal of her rings on his cheeks when she framed his face in her hands for their first married kiss, and the way her rings fitted against his own wedding ring whenever they laced their fingers together.

His fingers trembling as they had on his wedding day, Roger carefully slid first Holly's wedding ring and then her engagement ring onto his left pinkie finger to rest next to his wedding ring so he wouldn't lose them.

The sound of a gaggle of Spaulding voices brought Roger back to the present. He turned and saw Alan, Hope, Nick, and Alan-Michael exiting the elevator, the men all talking over one another and Hope trying to restore order with one bracing hand on her husband's arm and one bracing hand on her son's arm while clearing her throat, trying, and failing, to get the attention of at least one of them.

Roger—as well as Blake, Ross, and Maureen—all heard Hope shouting, **"ALL RIGHT, THAT'S IT! BE QUIET, ALL OF YOU!" **Startled, the three Spaulding men shut up and looked at Hope, who gave each of them a hard look in turn before speaking again. "Yes, we failed her by not seeing what was really going on with her until it was too late, but what good is arguing about it going to do anyone now, especially Alexandra? We are all going to band together and rally around Alexandra now, and let her know that we're all going to stand by her while she gets the help she needs."

"Like hell!" Roger exclaimed as he stormed over to the Spauldings, having heard loud and clearly what Hope said. Blake hurried after her father, and Ross and Maureen exchanged a "here we go again" look before hurrying after Blake.

"She belongs in a jail cell after what she did to Holly!" Roger insisted. "Kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, attempted murder—"

"Roger, if Alexandra lands in a jail cell tonight, you'll be in the one right next to her for breaking and entering and assault with a deadly weapon!" Hope declared.

"Assaulting what, Alan's precious original Van Gogh?" Roger asked. "I was never going to shoot any of you! I just wanted Holly back!"

"Like you were never going to shoot my grandfather when you ran into him on your way to Santo Domingo?" Hope countered. "Like you were never going to make it ugly all those years ago when you and Holly and Ed decided to try to share Blake? My grandfather told me all about it when he was explaining to me why he wanted to believe in you. And look at what you started here, with Alexandra."

"Me?" Roger yelped.

"Yes, you are to blame for what's happened to Alexandra!" Hope declared. "You started all of this because you wanted Spaulding Enterprises, which you never had any right to!"

"So this is all **my** fault?" Roger asked. "I'd look in my own backyard if I were you, Hope. You really think the only person who's **ever** screwed Alexandra over was me?"

"I didn't say that!" Hope exclaimed. "I do blame Mindy, and Nick and Alan-Michael and myself and Alan for not realizing what was happening to Alexandra and getting her the help she needs a lot sooner. But this started with you, Roger!"

"What's the matter, Roger, the use of your own tactics against you is too much?" Nick asked acerbically. "I know I came late to the family, but I know enough to know that this is exactly the kind of thing that you've done repeatedly through the years to Alexandra, to Ed Bauer, to Billy Lewis and Henry Chamberlain, and maybe you and Holly have managed to conveniently forget what you did to her, but the rest of us sure as hell haven't!"

Before Roger's fist could connect with Nick's jaw, Ross and Maureen had grabbed hold of him and hauled him away from Nick, holding him back as he struggled against them to break free and get at Nick, cursing.

But they were so busy holding Roger back that they couldn't hold Blake back too.

"Neither one of my parents have forgotten anything that happened between them in the past," Blake said in a low, dangerous voice as she stalked toward Nick. The ferocious look in her eyes made him involuntarily back up a few steps, but she still kept coming at him. "They have, however, made peace with it, and forgiven what needed to be forgiven. But then, what do the Spauldings know about forgiveness? Nothing, obviously. Look at where we are, and why. Your mother couldn't let go of the past and forgive my father, and she decided to get her pound of flesh from my mother because she knew that hurting my mother would hurt my father worse than anything else ever could! You were there, you heard her admit it!"

"Aside from your mother's abominable taste in husbands, none of us have anything against Holly, and we all know she didn't deserve this!" Nick insisted. Alan, Hope, and Alan-Michael added their agreement with Nick.

"You've certainly changed your tune since Holly left the _Journal_!" Roger yelled from where Ross and Maureen were still holding his arms.

"Yeah, because she was letting her relationship with you influence how she did her job, from the second Billy confessed to shooting you!" Nick retorted. "If his aim had been a bit better, we wouldn't even be having this conversation right now!"

Blake's slap stung Nick's cheek hard, leaving the imprint of her hand and echoing like a gunshot down the corridor. "You have no room to be high and mighty when my mother is in there unconscious because of **your** mother!" she told him. "At least I'm not standing here wishing Alexandra was dead right now!"

"Seeing her in jail will be enough!" Roger shouted.

"Alexandra is **not** going to jail!" Alan exclaimed.

"And if she does, you will be in the cell next to her, Roger!" Hope added.

"All right, people, settle down," Detective Cutter said as he, Faith, Frank Cooper, and Officer Metzger approached the group. "What's going on?"

"Ed and Eve Guthrie are still working to stabilize Holly," Maureen said.

"Has she regained consciousness at all? Even for a moment in the ambulance?" Cutter asked.

"No," Roger said, glaring at the Spauldings.

Cutter looked to the Spauldings. "And Ms. Spaulding?" he asked.

"She's upstairs with the Chief of Psychiatry," Alan-Michael said. "She's having a full psychiatric evaluation and will be kept here overnight, and we're waiting for Uncle Ed to check her out physically."

"Alex can damn well wait until he's through with Holly!" Roger shouted.

"Did I say she couldn't?" Alan-Michael retorted. "We all **know** that Holly needs physical care first. We all saw her. But none of this could have possibly helped Aunt Alex's physical condition any, either, and Ed is her primary care physician."

At that moment, Ed exited the cubicle where Holly was and approached the group. Roger shook off Ross and Maureen and rushed over to Ed. "Is she going to be all right, Ed? Is she awake yet?" he asked anxiously.

Ed looked at Roger and let his gaze take in Blake and Ross as well. "Holly was very severely dehydrated, having lost 15% of her body fluid," he began. "She's exhibiting several of the symptoms: fever, low blood pressure, rapid breathing, thready pulse, hot, dry skin and poor skin turgor, and unconsciousness, and those are just the symptoms we know about now. She may have other symptoms that she couldn't tell us about, such as a headache, dizziness or lightheadedness, lethargy, confusion—"

"When I found her, she looked like she didn't know who I was, and like she wondered how I knew who she was," Cutter interjected then.

Ed nodded. "I'm not surprised. Dehydration is very serious. Since Holly isn't bleeding or burned and has no underlying medical condition that would have caused this, such as the stomach flu or diabetes, then it was some other kind of trauma that caused her to dehydrate so severely in such a rapid fashion, and I need to know what that trauma was."

"She was chloroformed, tied up, and locked in an old wine cellar that was then sealed off with a brick wall and left without any food or water!" Roger exclaimed.

Ed blanched. "**That's** what happened to her? What does Alexandra have to do with that?" he asked.

"Who do you think locked her down there and hired workmen to seal it off?" Roger asked him.

"Because you pushed her to it!" Alan shouted.

"Yes, I did the things that she, and you, and half the people here keep reminding me of," Roger said. "But it's been a couple of years since I took the company from her. I may have had the bad judgment to needle her about the Valentine's Day Massacre at Company after it happened, but at least I didn't use it to humiliate her in front of the board and kick her out as CEO! **That** was **you,** Alan!"

Alan lunged at Roger then, and Roger was ready and waiting for him in a defensive stance, but before any blows could be landed on either side, Alan-Michael and Nick grabbed Alan, and Ross and Maureen again grabbed Roger, and held them both back.

"How **dare **you stand there passing judgment on me regarding matters about which you know nothing, and how **dare** you pontificate about what Alexandra has done when everything **you** have done since you met her has been a ploy to get at me?" Alan shouted, giving Roger a look of searing hatred as he tried to break Alan-Michael and Nick's combined grip. "And I wasn't even free to take the preventative measures I could have against you, the measures you were able to use to protect Blake and even Holly. You blamed me for not having a clear path to get your daughter away from Holly and Ed decades ago, so you used my **sister** against me, you used my **daughter** against me, you used my company against me, and you honestly believe that you're the one who's been wronged here, Roger? There is no excuse for what happened tonight, but don't you stand there and play the innocent victim! You're **no one's** innocent victim here, especially considering the way you broke into our home and used our library for your own personal shooting gallery with our entire family in it! You're in need of more psychological help than my poor sister is if you honestly believe you're **any** kind of victim in this story!"

"And that's just a recap of **this **decade. We can go further back if you'd like, because it's a pattern with you: preying on people's trust, and innocence in my daughter's case, only to stab them in the back as soon as you have something to gain for it," Hope concluded.

"Fine, I'm Satan incarnate!" Roger shouted. "But Holly **isn't**, and yet Holly is the one who is now unresponsive in the ER! And no matter how many times and how many people say that I drove Alex to it, the fact is that Alex is the one who actually **did** that to Holly!"

Just as Alan was wondering exactly how immature it would make him look if he kicked Roger in the shin, since he couldn't get his arms free form Alan-Michael and Nick, Ross shouted, **"That's enough, all of you! Haven't there been enough casualties already tonight?"**

"Ross is right," Maureen said. "Everyone here has much more important things to worry about. Screaming at one another and blaming one another for what's happened to both Holly and Alexandra certainly isn't accomplishing anything, nor is it going to change anything."

"So how is Mom now?" Blake asked Ed. "Is she stable yet? Is she going to be okay?"

Ed focused on Blake now. "She's not stable yet, but she's getting there," he said reassuringly. "We're pumping her full of fluids and electrolytes and giving her plasma to get her numbers back up to where they should be. We've given her ibuprofen for the fever, and the fever hasn't broken yet, but it's gone down one degree, to 101. The preliminary tests show no kidney damage or kidney failure, which is a very good sign. And we have her on oxygen to help her breathe easier until her fluid, electrolyte, and blood volume levels are back to normal."

"But she's still unconscious?" Blake asked.

"Yes," Ed said, "and she will likely remain unconscious until her numbers are back in normal range. I want to keep her down here in the ER until she is stable, then we'll transfer her to the ICU. Intravenous fluid replacement takes several hours when the levels are as diminished as Holly's are. Between the normal loss of fluids throughout the period of time she was missing, the fact that she obviously physically exerted herself a great deal, and her inability to promptly replenish all the fluids she lost, that's why she dehydrated so severely so quickly. Once she's stable, that's a big corner turned, and after that, it's really just a matter of making sure her numbers keep rising until they're back in normal range again, and then waiting for her to wake up."

"So her numbers have to be back in normal range for her to wake up?" Blake asked.

"It's hard to say," Ed replied. "She needs significant fluid and electrolyte replacement in order to be anywhere near normal levels. It will be at least three to four hours before her body has recouped anywhere close to half of what she lost, so I would say that's the earliest she would awaken. She might not awaken until she has fully recouped the fluids and electrolytes she's lost, and that would put us at sunrise tomorrow. Right now, all we can do is keep the IVs flowing, monitor her carefully, and wait."

"I want to be with Holly," Roger said.

"Roger, you can be with Holly once she's in ICU, but not down here in the ER," Ed replied.

Roger, thinking that Ed was keeping him away from Holly for personal reasons, swallowed hard and asked, "Then will you let Chrissy be with her until I can?"

"Roger, I'm not keeping you away from Holly out of spite, I'm keeping you away from Holly because it's hospital rules," Ed said exasperatedly. "She is in serious condition. When she is stable and in ICU, you can see her."

"Ed," Alan spoke up then, "do you have time to see Alexandra now?"

"Alexandra's here too?" Ed asked, surprised.

"She's with your Chief of Psychiatry, what's his name again?" Alan asked, looking to Hope and Nick.

"Dr. Braddock," Ed supplied.

"She's the one who did this to Holly!" Roger exclaimed. "She tried to kill her!" He looked to Cutter, Faith, Frank, and Metzger. "Are you people going to do your jobs or not?"

"We're awaiting the outcome of Ms. Spaulding's psychiatric evaluation, Mr. Thorpe," Cutter said patiently.

"You're all absolutely crazy if you think I'm going to let whatever diagnosis this hospital pulls out of its hat stand!" Roger shouted. "I want a second opinion from an impartial party before I'll believe that Alexandra didn't know **exactly** what she was doing!"

"Yeah, because this is all about you, Roger," Nick scoffed.

"She tried to kill my wife to get revenge on me! You're damn right it's about me!" Roger retorted. "The Bauers run this hospital, and you're funded by the Spauldings! Do you think **anyone** in their right mind would—"

"Roger, that is uncalled for!" Maureen exclaimed, not about to let him make that kind of implication about Cedars' professional reputation as a whole, or the way she and Ed did their respective jobs as Chief Administrator and Chief of Staff in particular, no matter how upset he was about Holly. "Cedars is the top hospital in the state! Alexandra will be properly diagnosed here, regardless of how much money the Spauldings contribute or how many Bauers, including me, I would like to remind you, work here!"

"I didn't mean to offend you, Maureen," Roger said contritely. "But I don't trust this Dr. Braddock not to bow to pressure from Alexandra's family," his glare skirted from Nick to Alan to Faith, who was now standing with her family, "to keep her out of jail!"

"I was not the arresting officer, Roger," Faith reminded him. "I have recused myself from the case from here on out."

"A bit late, don't you think, considering you were the first one to mention the wine cellar?" Roger accused. "How long did you know she had Holly down there?"

"Exactly what are you accusing me of?" Faith wanted to know.

"Faith wasn't the first one to think of the wine cellar, Roger. I was," Frank Cooper interjected then.

"And you asked her about it, didn't you?" Roger said. "She knew Holly was down there! Did you know that's where she was while you were wasting time calling the Agency? Did you?"

"Of course not!" Faith exclaimed. "For your information, Roger, as soon as we put it together about the wine cellar being sealed up, we got a search warrant for the mansion! We were waiting to get it from the judge when the call came in about you using the library for a shooting gallery!"

"Exactly what is it you're so paranoid about, Roger?" Hope wanted to know. "Do you think any of us **enjoyed** seeing Holly collapse into the library any more than you did? This was a wake-up call for us, because as hard as it might be for you to comprehend, we love Alexandra. We want her healthy and whole, and we're damn well going to do whatever it takes to make sure it happens!"

"She came at me through what I love most," Roger reminded Hope menacingly. "I won't let this go."

Alan was incensed at Roger's hypocrisy. "And **you** came at me through my son and daughter, Roger! Maybe you didn't set Blake up to marry Phillip, but you were more than thrilled to use it to your advantage! And then you befriended my sister, you befriended my teenage daughter, under false pretenses, all to get at something that, as Hope pointed out earlier, you never had any right to in the first place! Alexandra sheltered you, and protected you, and stood up for you, and you repaid her by betraying her and stealing everything from her! So if you're looking to blame someone for what happened to Holly, start by looking in a mirror!"

Alan looked to Cutter then. "I'll be hiring a private security detail to be with Alexandra tonight, but I assume I'll be able to count on the police to protect her from Thorpe's rampaging until they get here."

"We're just as dedicated to protecting the rights and safety of the accused as we are the victim, Mr. Spaulding," Cutter replied drolly.

"If Cedars thinks I'm taking the word of some hand-picked Spaulding flunky as to whether or not poor Alexandra is responsible for her actions, you're all as insane as she's claiming to be!" Roger shouted.

"All right, Roger, pipe down," Frank said then.

Roger glowered at Frank then. "You know, I can't help but wonder if the police would have been a little more vigilant in what could only laughingly be called your efforts to find my wife if she was someone else's wife."

"It sounds to me like the police were doing their jobs, Roger, but as usual, you took the law into your own hands," Ed said. "You're damned lucky nobody got hurt by flying glass or a stray bullet."

"I was never going to shoot anyone!" Roger insisted again.

"And we're supposed to believe that?" Ed asked.

"He never aimed at any people," Maureen said then.

Ed looked at Maureen in horror, realizing how she would know that. "You were there?" he asked. "You were in the room when Roger was shooting?"

"I was never in any danger," Maureen hastily assured her husband.

"Maureen, Roger was randomly shooting a gun! If you were there, you were in danger!" Ed declared. He looked to Cutter, Faith, and Frank. "Assault with a deadly weapon, right?" he asked.

"All I shot was a painting and a lamp," Roger informed Ed. "And as I keep pointing out, Alexandra is the one who should be in jail!"

"And as **I **keep pointing out, Roger, if Alexandra ends up in a jail cell, I will press charges against you myself for breaking and entering!" Hope exclaimed.

Roger wheeled on Hope angrily as Frank pulled Cutter aside.

"We're gonna need statements from Roger, Blake, Ross, and all the Spauldings, including Faith," Frank said.

Cutter nodded. "Let's try to break up this fight to get started on that," he said.

Faith stepped in front of her mother and warned Roger, "Don't do it, Roger. You don't want to add to this."

"It's a damn shame you weren't as interested in protecting Holly from Alexandra as you are in protecting your mother from me," Roger said acidly.

"I told you before, Thorpe, back off," Cutter said angrily.

"I realize you've got something invested in your little protégée here," Roger replied, "but a word of advice: she's a Spaulding, and they will all break whatever laws they need to break to protect themselves and each other!"

"Well, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what it is," Nick sneered.

"You know, Roger, it's pitiful that you're still blaming everyone in sight for things that you are responsible for!" Ed said angrily.

"Of course you'd blame me, Ed," Roger said derisively. "You've hated me for so long, you probably wouldn't recognize yourself if you didn't."

"Mr. Thorpe, Dr. Bauer is the only reason you were never a serious suspect, given your…shall we say, colorful, past with your wife," Cutter informed Roger as Frank went to talk to Metzger at the other end of the hall about taking witness statements.

"I realize you're incapable of any kind of empathy whatsoever, Roger, but if you could sit down and think about what's happened to Alexandra over the last few years, ever since the day you came into her life, and that you goaded her after Valentine's Day, it's no wonder she finally broke. Alan is right. If you want to find the person who's responsible for what's happened to Holly, look in the mirror!" Ed exclaimed.

"Alexandra deliberately kidnapped my mother and held her prisoner to strike back at my father! I know you and my dad will always hate each other, Ed, but I think it's a bit much to expect him not to be mad as hell at Alexandra right now. I certainly am!" Blake said then.

"But you won't retaliate against Alexandra like your father would, Blake. That's the difference," Ed told her.

"Okay, Aunt Maureen was right, this is not helping anyone!" Faith exclaimed. "Why don't we all retire to our separate corners and—"

"I'm not going anywhere, Faith, until I know Alexandra is safe from **him**!" Nick exclaimed, gesturing at Roger. "So you might as well stop trying to impress your cop buddies and your boss over there at your family's expense!"

"You seriously think that's what I'm doing?" Faith asked, incensed.

"Oh, I won't need to do anything to Alex. Seeing her behind bars will be almost as satisfying as seeing Alan behind bars was six years ago," Roger said.

"Then I was right!" Alan exclaimed. "You did all of this to get back at me!"

"Don't flatter yourself," Roger retorted. "The things I did back then were because I wanted the company, not because I was trying to get back at you or Alexandra or anyone else."

"No, that was just a side benefit," Alan-Michael said. "And of everyone here right now, Roger, you're the last one who should be taking the kind of cheap shots that led to this in the first place, being the victim's husband."

"Well, at least one Spaulding realizes that Holly, and not Alexandra, is the victim here!" Roger yelled.

Eve came out of the cubicle then and got Ed's attention. "Holly's stable. We're moving her to the ICU now," she reported. A moment later, the curtain was swept aside, and a team of nurses and orderlies wheeled Holly out, along with her attendant IVs. She was still unconscious, and still wearing the oxygen mask; the oxygen tank was resting by her feet on top of the utilitarian white hospital-issue blanket.

Roger looked from Holly to the Spauldings. "Alexandra is **not** going to get away with this," he said through gritted teeth. Then he quickly hurried after Holly's gurney, catching up to it to walk behind Eve Guthrie, who was now one of the people moving Holly to the ICU. Blake and Ross followed after the entourage of medical personnel and Roger escorting Holly to the elevator for the trip to the ICU.

"Dr. Bauer, are you coming?" Eve looked back and asked as they waited for the elevator.

Ed nodded to Eve. "Let me get Holly settled in ICU, and then I'll head up to see Alexandra," Ed told the Spauldings. "I'll meet you up there." Ed then hurried to the elevator, which Eve, Blake, Ross, Roger, and a nurse had already boarded with Holly's gurney for the trip up to the ICU.

The Spauldings fell silent as they waited for the next elevator to take them up to the psychiatric floor to wait for Ed, and for word on Alexandra. Maureen waited with them, wanting to talk to Ed for a moment before she went to pick up Michelle at Vanessa's house.

* * *

_April 11, 1995, 8:12 PM—Vanessa Chamberlain's House_

Peter was with Bridget and Dylan for the night, and Josh was working late, so Vanessa and Matt were watching Marah and Shayne at home. Michelle Bauer and Ben Reade were also there, and all of them and Bill were taking turns playing Super Mario World on the Nintendo. The kids were all on Easter vacation until next Tuesday, so Josh had agreed to relax Marah's and Shayne's usual strict bedtimes.

When the phone rang, Vanessa took the call in the other room, as the kids got Matt to try his hand at Super Mario World. "Hello?" she said, plugging her other ear to block out the ambient noise drifting in from the living room.

"Vanessa," Fletcher Reade said on the other end of the line, sounding harried and worried, "I know this is last-minute, and with no notice at all, but could Ben possibly spend the night there tonight? I'll pick him up first thing in the morning."

"Of course," Vanessa agreed instantly. "What's wrong, Fletcher?"

"They found Holly," Fletcher said.

"Is she—" Vanessa began, given Fletcher's tone of voice.

"No!" Fletcher exclaimed. "No. At least, not the last I heard, but she's not in good shape." He took a deep breath. "Vanessa, Alexandra is the one who kidnapped Holly."

Vanessa didn't even have to think. "To get back at Roger," she replied.

"That's the consensus," Fletcher agreed grimly. "Everyone's at Cedars now, and I'm on my way down there. I want to be there for Alexandra, and for Nick."

"Of course," Vanessa said again. "Don't worry about Ben. He's welcome to stay with us as long as you need him to."

"Just overnight," Fletcher replied. "Can I talk to my son for a second?"

"I'll get him for you," Vanessa replied. "Hold on." She returned to the living room. "Ben, your father's on the phone!" she called.

Ben handed his controller to Henry Chamberlain, who had just joined the crowd and who looked at the controller like it was an alien ray gun. "Thanks, Ms. Chamberlain!" Ben exclaimed as he hurried to take the phone from her. "Hi, Dad. What's up?"

Fletcher sighed. "Ben, you're going to spend the night there at Bill's house. I'll pick you up first thing in the morning, okay?"

"Did they find Mrs. Thorpe? Are you gonna be working on the story all night for the morning edition?" Ben asked.

"How did you know Holly was missing?" Fletcher asked, surprised.

"I heard it at school today from Bill," Ben replied. "His cousin AJ was the one who found out Mrs. Thorpe had been kidnapped last night, and he called his Aunt Jenna, who called Ms. Chamberlain, who told Bill. So have they found Mrs. Thorpe? Is she okay?"

"She's been found, yes, and she's getting checked out at the hospital," Fletcher replied, mentally shaking his head at the way the grapevine worked.

"So you're gonna be working on the story," Ben repeated knowingly. "Okay. I'll see you in the morning then, Dad. I hope Mrs. Thorpe's gonna be all right."

"I do too. I'll see you in the morning," Fletcher replied. He just couldn't tell Ben about Alexandra's involvement over the phone. Ben had always liked Alex very much, and this would require a more in-depth explanation than Fletcher had the time to go into right now, an explanation that he wanted to deliver face-to-face, on top of which he still didn't know everything, so for now, he was willing to let Ben think he was just working on the story. If necessary, he would write the story for the _Journal—_the last thing Alex needed was another inaccurate hatchet job by that hack Nowitzki—but right now, his only priority was being there for Alexandra and finding out exactly what had happened to both her and Holly. "I love you, son," Fletcher said.

"Me too, Dad," Ben replied. "Here's Ms. Chamberlain back." Ben handed the phone back to Vanessa, then returned to the living room. When he got there, he said to Bill, "Can I borrow your sleeping bag? I'm staying here tonight."

This got Michelle's attention. "Is your dad working on a big story? Did they find Holly?" she demanded.

"Yeah," Ben replied. "Dad said she's getting checked out at the hospital right now."

"Is she going to be all right?" Michelle asked anxiously.

"All my dad said was that she's getting checked out. He's gonna be working on the story all night, so he's not picking me up 'til tomorrow morning," Ben replied.

"My dad's working tonight too. Bill, do you think your mom would let me call the hospital and find out how Holly is?" Michelle asked.

"Sure," Bill said. But there was no need for that, because just as Michelle handed her controller to Bill and hurried toward the other room, Vanessa returned to the living room to tell Michelle that her mother was on the phone for her.

Michelle grabbed the phone from Vanessa's hand and breathlessly demanded, "Mom, is Holly okay?"

"How did you know I was calling about Holly?" Maureen asked, surprised.

"Ben's dad just called to tell him that Holly had been found and was getting checked out at Cedars and that he's going to be working on the story so Ben has to spend the night here at Bill's house," Michelle explained quickly. "I was going to ask if I could call and talk to Dad and find out how Holly's doing, so how's Holly doing?"

The fact that Maureen paused before answering told Michelle that everything wasn't fine, at least not yet. "How bad is it?" Michelle asked fearfully.

"Holly's very dehydrated, but your dad and Eve have gotten her stabilized and she's in the ICU right now," Maureen replied as reassuringly as she could.

"I want to see her!" Michelle said. "Is she awake?"

"Honey, Blake and Ross and Roger are with her. You can see Holly tomorrow," Maureen said. "In fact, I'm going to be there to pick you up soon, probably another 45 minutes or so, all right?"

"All right," Michelle said quietly. "I'll see you soon."

"Honey, Holly will wake up," Maureen promised. "And we'll come by and see her tomorrow."

"Will she be awake tomorrow?" Michelle asked.

"Your dad believes she will, yes."

"Okay," Michelle said. "Do you want to talk to Ms. Chamberlain again?"

"Yes, please," Maureen said. Michelle handed the phone back to Vanessa and returned to the living room, realizing that she hadn't asked her mom who did this to Holly. She hoped her parents would tell her. After all, she was 13; she wasn't a little kid anymore, and Holly was her friend. She deserved to know who had kidnapped her friend. No longer interested in the video games, Michelle sat down on the couch to wait for her mother to arrive and silently prayed that Holly would be all right.

* * *

_April 11, 1995, 8:13 PM—Cedars Hospital, Psychiatric Floor Waiting Room_

The Spauldings and Fletcher were gathered in the Psychiatric floor's waiting room, with Cutter, Frank, and Metzger with them, preparing to take their statements, when the door opened and an officious-looking older man in a well-cut gray suit strode in. No one noticed him until he exclaimed, "All right, who wants to explain to me why Officer Spaulding is in uniform, and has, in fact, been working this case when her family is involved?"

Everyone turned to look at the man, but only the police officers in the room recognized him, and Faith tried to keep her face from falling as much as her heart and stomach were. "Chief Ward," Faith said, struggling to keep her voice even, as Frank gave the way-too-amused Metzger a hard elbow in the ribs, the Spauldings exchanged uneasy looks, and Cutter and Faith both stepped forward to talk to Chief Ward.

* * *

_April 11, 1995, 8:17 PM—Cedars Hospital ICU, Holly's Room_

Roger was relegated to waiting in the corner again as Ed, Eve, and the nurse got Holly settled in the ICU room, adjusting her IVs and oxygen and hooking her up to another heart monitor. Blake was standing by her father, and Ross was waiting outside in the hall. After Holly was settled, Ed said, "A nurse will be in to take Holly's vital signs once every hour. Two people at a time are allowed to be in the room in ICU, so you can both stay. Normal visiting hours don't apply here, not that I figured on getting either of you out of here tonight anyway." Ed gave Roger a hard stare then. "Try to remember that this is a hospital, Roger, and every patient here needs their rest and needs care, not just Holly. If you start an argument with anyone about anything, I'll have Security throw you out of here so fast, your head will spin, do I make myself clear?"

"I just want to stay with my wife," Roger said. "As long as I can do that, you won't have any problems with me."

"I've had problems with you for almost thirty years, Roger," Ed replied. "I don't see that changing anytime soon." He looked to Blake then as he rounded Holly's bed to rest his hand on Blake's shoulder comfortingly. "Holly's condition has been upgraded to serious but stable. Have them page me when Holly wakes up, no matter what time it is, or if you need me for anything before that."

Blake nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Ed, for everything you've done for Mom." Ed nodded, squeezed Blake's shoulder, and left the room.

When Blake heard Ed talking to Ross in the hall, she turned to look at her parents. The sight of Roger leaning over Holly to brush a tender kiss to the bruise on her forehead, then pulling a chair up to her bedside, placing his hand palm up on the edge of the bed and carefully, gently sliding his hand under hers so that their palms were touching, and stretching his other hand up to gently stroke her hair made Blake's heart ache and brought a lump to her throat and tears to her eyes.

Blake wiped at the tears that had welled in her eyes and did her best to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat before sticking her head out in the hall. When Ross saw her, he pushed off from the opposite wall, where he'd been leaning, and asked, "Is Holly awake yet?"

"Not yet," Blake replied. "But Ed said that she **will** wake up. We just have to wait for her fluid levels to get back to where they should be." Then she saw the look in Ross's eyes. "What aren't you telling me?" she asked. "What did Ed say to you?"

"It wasn't Ed. It has nothing to do with Holly, at least not the way you're thinking," Ross replied. Realizing he wasn't going to get out of telling her, he said, "Hope came down from the Psychiatric waiting room a few minutes ago to tell me that her father is going to be here first thing in the morning. He's going to be representing Alexandra."

Blake bowed her head. "Any other time, I would love hearing that Mike Bauer is coming back to town. I don't know if Alex's spool has really come unwound or if she's just putting on a hell of a performance, but you realize that with Mike Bauer as her defense attorney, this will probably never go to trial. Even if it does, they'll barely address what happened to Mom because Mike will dredge up Dad's entire history like some criminal version of _This Is Your Life_." She looked up and sighed. "I know Dad's blaming himself for this. After that near free-for-all with the Spauldings downstairs, and Ed getting involved in it, and all of them telling him over and over that this is mostly, or entirely, his fault, on top of Alexandra rubbing his nose in the fact that the whole reason she did this to Mom in the first place was to get back at him… Of course he's blaming himself. I think he's scared that Mom is going to feel the way everybody else does, and she's going to blame him too, and I think he's afraid she'll leave him over this."

"Never gonna happen," Ross said. Blake looked at him, shocked. "Yes, I said it, and I meant it: Holly is not going to leave Roger over this. Frankly, I don't think there's anything that will ever make her leave him. All that either of them has ever really wanted is what they have now. He may blame himself, but I don't see her blaming him. Even if she does, she'll forgive him. God knows she's forgiven him for much worse. They'll make it through this, Blake. They love each other too much not to."

Blake smiled for the first time since Holly had gone missing. "You really **don't** think my parents' marriage is an unexplained phenomenon anymore," she said.

"I don't understand **why** it works, but then I don't have to," Ross replied. "I just know that it **does** work for them, and it works well. Holly got herself untied and somehow fought her way out of a wine cellar whose main entrance was sealed off with a brick wall. Put aside the survival instinct. The two main reasons she got out of there are you and Roger. As hard as she and Roger have worked and fought to get here—and as hard as you and she have worked and fought to get where you are in your relationship—Holly's not going to let **anything** ruin or end what she has with either of you. So whatever happens with Alexandra, your parents are going to get through it."

At Holly's bedside, Roger was sitting on the edge of his chair, still stroking Holly's hair with one hand and resting his other palm beneath hers on the bed. "If I didn't think it might hurt you more, I'd crawl in there with you right this second," he said softly. "If it's all right with you, I'm going to crawl in there once you're awake, because I really need to hold you. For now, I'll just hold your hand, in a way." He moved his fingers lightly across her palm then. "Can you feel that, Holly? Can you feel me? I'm right here." He leaned down then and whispered in her ear, "I love you so much. Please come back to me, and give me a chance to make this up to you. I don't know how I'll do it, but I promise you, I'll find a way."

_**I did read up on symptoms of dehydration, so I was as accurate as I could be based on what I read. As for medical jargon and hospital procedure, I'm not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV. Everything I know comes from soaps and reruns of Emergency! and Grey's Anatomy, so take it with a grain of salt.  
**_


	15. Tell Me That You'll Open Your Eyes

_**A few quick author's notes: First, in my Springfield, Bill Bauer remained with his family after returning to Springfield in 1977 and did not pass away until 1991. Because he was reunited with his entire family, he was there for all of the drama surrounding Roger, Holly, and Ed in the late '70s and 1980, and he tried to cut Roger more slack than anyone else did, but it backfired on him big time when he ran into Roger when Roger was on his way to Santo Domingo, and Roger shot him in order to get away. Bill survived, but since Bill was Ed's father, that's another something Ed can't forgive Roger for doing.**_

_**Secondly, I wasn't even born yet when Roger and Holly first met, and all I know about it is that they met when he was working for her father. But I've seen several scenes from 1990-94 in which Roger said that he had always loved Holly. Therefore, I see it as, he may have initially dated her because of who her father was, but she captured his interest, and ultimately his heart, because of who she was, not because of anything to do with her father, so I tried to reflect that in my take on their first meeting. And Blake will be getting Holly's version of her and Roger's first meeting in an upcoming chapter.  
**_

_**Finally, the person Holly meets when she's in a state of limbo while she's unconscious will end up playing a big part in the story after this one. Any guesses as to his true identity?  
**_

* * *

_April 11, 1995, 8:21 PM-Cedars Hospital, Psychiatric Floor Waiting Room_

"Spaulding was involved with the case in a strictly support level, Chief," Cutter said.

"That's right, sir," Faith added.

"Then Sergeant Crawford was wrong, Spaulding, when he said that you were at the Spaulding Mansion during what he described as, and I quote, 'a shootout in the library corral'?" Chief Ward continued, frowning at Faith.

Faith was honestly surprised that Roger hadn't found a phone somewhere between the ER and the ICU to call and complain to Chief Ward about her. "No, sir, I was there," Faith admitted.

"Even though you had been specifically told by Detective Cutter to stay at the station house when the call came in about the shots fired there?" Chief Ward persisted.

"Yes, sir," Faith admitted.

Chief Ward sighed. "Officer Spaulding, I sympathize with the fact that it was your family and their home involved, but you disobeyed a direct order by showing up on the scene, and then you disobeyed another direct order when you ignored Detective Cutter telling you to stand down."

Cutter spoke up then. "Chief Ward, I would like to point out that had Mr. Thorpe not been obstructing the department's efforts to find his wife since 7:00 this morning, then Detective Levy and Sergeant Crawford would have taken a minute to question the work crew when they were at the Spaulding Mansion questioning the family. As it was, my officers and I were rushing around trying to interview a very long list of persons of interest all day, and Sergeant Morrison and I had to take time to respond to a break-in at one of the Spaulding warehouses early this afternoon."

Frank spoke up then. "We went through proper channels to obtain a search warrant for the mansion, Chief. We were waiting for it to come in so that we could serve it."

"Who, exactly, is 'we,' Cooper?" the Chief wanted to know.

"Detective Levy and myself," Frank replied. "But it was Officer Spaulding who first suggested that Holly Thorpe could be in that wine cellar, and she turned out to be right."

"Be that as it may, this is a high-profile case involving two of Springfield's prominent families," Chief Ward continued, "and the issue right now is Officer Spaulding, a member of one of those families, and how she disobeyed two direct orders from a superior within half an hour of each other." Chief Ward looked at Faith then. "You're suspended effective immediately, Spaulding, pending a review of your participation on this case."

Faith chewed the insides of her cheeks and nodded. "Understood, sir," she said.

"Where are we on this case right now?" Chief Ward asked Cutter then.

"Mrs. Thorpe is in the ICU and she's still unconscious," Cutter replied. "Ms. Spaulding is currently undergoing a psychiatric evaluation. We're getting ready to take witness statements from Ms. Spaulding's family and Mrs. Thorpe's family members who were present."

"Wasn't Mrs. Bauer there too?" Metzger piped up then.

"Yes, Mrs. Bauer was there too," Frank said as he and Faith turned twin glares on Metzger.

"Get those witness statements, and get the statements from Mrs. Thorpe and Ms. Spaulding as soon as you can," Chief Ward said.

After the Chief was gone, Faith sat down heavily. "What does this mean for you?" Alan-Michael asked his sister.

"It means I screwed up," Faith replied. "But I'm not the concern right now. The concern right now is Holly, and Aunt Alex, and closing this case, and to do that, we all have to give our statements." She looked to her whole family then. "And I would really appreciate it if you would all give your full cooperation to the police." Faith looked around the room then. "Where's Aunt Maureen? They're going to need to get a statement from her, too."

"She went to her office to call Michelle at Vanessa's and let her know that Holly has been found," Hope replied. "I'm sure she'll be back soon."

Nick looked at his watch. "How much longer do you think Dr. Braddock is going to be with Alexandra?" he wondered.

"I don't know," Alan said. "But if Alexandra isn't in a position to make any decisions for herself, Nick, this time you and I are going to have to make them for her."

"I just want my mother to get the help she needs, Alan," Nick replied, "no matter what it takes."

"Then we're in complete agreement," Alan said.

* * *

_April 11, 1995, 8:41 PM—Cedars Hospital_

Maureen caught up with Ed as he was headed to the Psychiatric waiting room. "How is Holly?" she asked.

"She's settled in the ICU, serious but stable, not awake yet," Ed reported. "Roger and Blake are with her, and Ross is in the ICU waiting room."

"But Holly's going to be all right?"

"She should be. We'll know more when she's awake."

"Have you seen Alexandra yet?" Maureen asked.

"I just came from there," Ed replied. "Dr. Braddock is still with her. As rough a shape as Holly was in physically, that's how rough a shape Alexandra is in emotionally and mentally." He sighed. "Looking back, it's easy to see now that this was a long time coming, but everyone managed to miss all the signs."

"I just talked to Michelle," Maureen told Ed then. "Fletcher called Vanessa's before I did, and Ben found out that Holly's here and told Michelle."

"How did she take it?" he asked.

"She's still worried. She wanted to come down and see Holly tonight, but I told her that Roger and Blake and Ross are all here, and that she can see Holly tomorrow," Maureen replied.

Ed nodded. "She should be awake by then," he said. He looked at Maureen intently. "We're going to have to talk to her tonight," he said.

"Yes, we are," Maureen agreed.

"Are we telling her that you could have ended up a patient here tonight too?" Ed wanted to know.

"Ed, I was never in danger!" Maureen exclaimed again. "I'm Roger's friend. He certainly wasn't going to shoot me! He wasn't even going to shoot Alexandra. If he had wanted to shoot her, he would have. She admitted that she kidnapped Holly, and if you had seen and heard her telling us how she did it, and how she left Holly tied up with no food or water…" Maureen shuddered.

"Sadly, it makes sense that this happened," he said. "The only person Alexandra hates more than Mindy is Roger."

"That doesn't mean he deserved to have his wife kidnapped," Maureen replied. "It doesn't mean that Holly deserved to be locked up in a wine cellar that was then sealed off with a brick wall."

"I didn't say Holly deserved it," Ed said.

"So Roger did?" Maureen asked, aghast.

"There is a lot of ugly history between Roger and Alexandra," Ed reminded her.

"But what was Alexandra really punishing Roger for? For the past? For not playing into her hands anymore, not doing what she wanted, because he learned from that same past and got himself out of the war for control of Spaulding Enterprises?" Maureen asked.

"I don't agree with Alexandra's methods at all, and I certainly don't agree with her attacking Holly to punish Roger," Ed said, "but I can understand how she could be driven to it. Roger has come at me through more people than I can count. That's how I know Alexandra has been driven insane. If she was in her right mind, she wouldn't have done this, because in doing this, she crossed all the lines that Roger blows through on a regular basis. He's done it to me countless times, to Alexandra, to dozens of people down through the years. If Holly hadn't been hurt by this, and if Alexandra's sanity weren't in doubt, I might be congratulating her right now."

"You can't mean that!" Maureen exclaimed.

"The law never seems to get very far with Roger when they try to punish him," Ed said.

"Regardless of Alexandra's mental issues, that did not give her any right to go after Holly to punish Roger!" Maureen declared.

"I agree with that statement at face value," Ed replied. "And I don't agree with vigilante justice at all. I'm just saying that I can understand Alexandra being driven to this, even if Holly…and Roger," he added when Maureen opened her mouth to object, "ended up the targets of her anger."

"I understand that Roger used to cross the line all the time, but he's changed now. He's not the monster he used to be. He's not running around town randomly destroying people for kicks anymore. He's settled down a lot since he and Holly got married."

"Yes, because shooting a priceless work of art off a wall in a room filled with innocent, unarmed people just **screams** 'settled down,'" Ed retorted.

"Was it the wisest course of action he could have taken? No," Maureen said. "But **I **can understand what drove **him** to it. Holly is the center of his world, and the threat of losing her knocked Roger's entire world off its axis. And he **was** right: Alexandra **was** the one who took her."

"Your 'he's not as bad as you think anymore' argument would hold a lot more weight if he hadn't turned Alan and Hope's library into a shooting gallery with you there," Ed said. He sighed again. "I really don't want to fight about this."

"Neither do I," Maureen said. She paused a beat, then said, "Hope called Mike. He'll be here in the morning. He's going to be Alexandra's attorney."

"Good," Ed said, "because knowing Roger, even if Alexandra is declared unfit to stand trial, he'll push for it anyway. Mike will do everything legally possible to stop Alexandra from seeing the inside of a courtroom."

"She doesn't need a trial. She needs help," Maureen agreed. She looked at her watch then. "I promised Michelle I'd pick her up soon, and I still have give my statement to the police. We'll wait up for you so that you and I can talk to Michelle together."

"I'll be home as soon as I check on Holly and Alexandra both one last time," Ed said. He took Maureen's hands in his then and they stood in the corridor looking at each other. "For your sake, and Michelle's sake, I hope and pray that you're right about Roger," he said. "For my sake, I hope I'm strong enough to survive him coming at me again, because I know that it could happen at any time. I know Roger Thorpe better than you ever could, Maureen, better than I ever wanted to. He's already taken too much from me, or tried to. I won't let him try to take anything or anyone else, especially not you, Michelle, or Rick, because the three of you are the center of **my** world."

Maureen pulled Ed into an embrace then. "And you, Michelle and Rick are the center of mine," she said softly in his ear. She kissed his cheek, then released him and said, "I'll see you at home," and then she headed to Vanessa's to pick up Michelle and go home to wait for him while Ed headed to the Psychiatric waiting room to update the Spauldings on Alexandra's physical condition.

* * *

_April 11, 1995, 8:29 PM—Cedars Hospital ICU, Holly's Room_

As Roger and Blake kept vigil at Holly's bedside, and Ross waited for word in the ICU waiting room, Holly was off in a state of limbo, or at least her spirit was…

_**[[**_Holly was walking across a large expanse of grass, but the absence of the Spaulding Mansion let her know that she wasn't there. She had no idea where she was, but she noted that it wasn't raining, and she didn't feel sick or weak anymore. If there had been water, she might have thought she was at Laurel Falls, although how she could have gotten there, she had no idea.

Then she saw a large oak tree in full spring bloom, and sitting under it was a young man in his early 20s. He was writing something furiously in a notebook propped on his bent knee. She walked toward him, hating to interrupt him since he was obviously very focused on whatever he was writing. But suddenly his head snapped up, and his eyes met hers—brown eyes filled with intensity that widened in amazement when he registered her presence. He hurriedly set aside his notebook and pen and sprang to his feet, and the first thing Holly noticed about him was that he was tall, probably at least as tall as Roger, maybe a few inches taller.

The young man now regarded her keenly, and she looked at him, noting that his dark, wavy hair was cut short, that he was of medium build, and that he was wearing a sky blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows open over a white t-shirt emblazoned with a large black treble clef, light blue jeans, and black high-top Chuck Taylor All-Star sneakers. She saw a watch on his right wrist, and when he stretched his hands in front of himself, palms out, fingers steepled, she noticed his long, lean fingers. Then he spoke. "I heard that you were going to be here today, Holly." He smiled then, and of all the things Holly noticed about him, the smile was the one that struck her the most deeply. It seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly how.

"You know my name?" she asked, surprised.

"I know everything about you," the man replied, still smiling. Seeing her nervous look, his smile faded. "I'm not some creepy stalker, I swear!" he said, throwing his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. "Please don't freak out. I promise, there's nothing nefarious going on here."

She believed him. She couldn't have explained why she believed him, but she did. "You seem very familiar to me, but I don't think we've met before, have we?" she asked.

"Not before," he said evenly.

"Are you…" She trailed off, then blurted it out in a rush. "my guardian angel?"

He laughed then, and she recognized that laugh: it was an echo of her own when she found something particularly amusing. But why did this young man, whoever or whatever he was, have a laugh that sounded so much like hers?

"No, I'm not your guardian angel," he said after his laughter had subsided. "I think the only way I'd ever be mistaken for an angel is by being compared to my sister when she was my age. I'm going a lot easier on our folks than she did. Of course, as she likes to say, I got the models that she had already broken in."

Now Holly looked at him fearfully. "I'm not dead, am I?"

"Definitely not," he replied firmly. "You and Roger… Well, the course of true love never did run smooth, but the two of you… You're something between a dream and a miracle. You love one another not only for what you are individually, but for what you are when you're together, what you have made of yourselves and what you make of each other, the parts of each other that only each of you bring out in the other."

"How did you—You know everything about me," Holly said. "And it sounds like you know Roger too."

"I do," he replied.

"And it also sounds like you know something about William Shakespeare, and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, since you paraphrased both of them a minute ago," she said.

He smiled that familiar smile at her again, but she couldn't have said where she had seen it before. "I was raised on the great poets, and the Bard, among others," he said. "My mother's a big fan. She instilled that interest in me."

"Are you a poet?" she asked, looking at his notebook lying under the tree.

He followed her gaze to his notebook. "In a way," he said. He bent to pick up his notebook and pen, and she saw that it was a notebook of blank sheet music. He had drawn several notes on the staff, and it looked like he had scribbled some lyrics on the sheet too. "I'm more about the music, but I'm trying my hand at some lyrics."

"I had piano lessons for a few years when I was a kid, but about all I'm able to remember now are 'Chopsticks' and 'Heart and Soul,'" she told him. "Not like Roger." Roger! "Oh god, Roger! I heard a gunshot! I have to get back!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, you do have to get back, because he's a mess without you. But he didn't shoot anyone."

"He didn't?" she asked hopefully.

"He didn't," the young man repeated in the same firm tone of voice he had used when assuring her she wasn't dead. "Roger would never do **anything** to risk getting taken away from you. Losing you is his greatest fear. He's battling it right now, and he's far from finished."

"I know he's going to blame himself for what happened to me, but it's not his fault," Holly insisted.

"He's going to need to hear that from you," the young man said.

"What is this place?" she asked then, looking around.

"Just call it a way station for the soul," the young man replied. His eyes danced then as he regarded her. "A brief stop between the present and the future."

"You said before that you're here because you heard that** I** was going to be here," Holly said.

"That's right," he said, nodding.

"Why?" she wanted to know.

"I didn't want you wandering around here alone after what you've already been through," he said. He looked at her kindly then. "I just wanted you to know that everything's gonna be okay, Holly." She looked at him skeptically and was taken aback when he burst out laughing again. "I'm sorry," he said, struggling to recover himself. "I'm not laughing at **you,** honest. It's just the look you just gave me right now...I'm not usually the one on the receiving end of it. Now I know how...ah, I should really just shut up now." He looked chagrined.

"Who are you?" she asked. "You seem so familiar to me. I feel like I should know you, like I should know who you are and why you know so much about me, and about Roger, but I don't."

"You will," he said. "That's all I can really tell you. There are reasons why you feel that way, and they'll make sense someday. But right now, you have somewhere else to be."

"Yes," she said. "I have to get back to Roger. He's got to be beside himself with worry. Blake too. She's my-"

"-daughter," they finished in unison.

"You weren't kidding when you said you know everything about me," she remarked. "So tell me, how do I get back to my family?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Holly," he said regretfully. "I'm already breaking enough rules, but when I heard you'd be here, I just couldn't stay away. But you will get back to Roger and Blake, I promise you that. It may be a little rough for a little while, but everything is going to be all right, Holly. You and Roger are going to grow good and old together. The best is yet to be."

"Paraphrasing Robert Browning now, I see," she said with a smile.

"Both of my parents have a soft spot for him," he replied.

"He's a favorite of mine as well," Holly said. "But I'm guessing you already knew that."

"What do you think?" he asked with a smirk so familiar that it sent a shiver down her spine. But again, she couldn't recall exactly why his smirk was so familiar to her.

She started to turn to go, then stopped and looked at him again. "So I'll see you again someday?" she asked. She had no idea why, but talking to this young man felt natural to her, and she hoped she would see him again somewhere, someday.

"I guarantee it," he said in the same firm tone of voice he used when he told her that she was definitely not dead, and that Roger hadn't shot anybody. And she knew he was right. She knew that she would see him again. She had no idea where or when, but she knew that she would see him again. But right now, she wanted to see Roger and Blake more than anything._**]]** _

"Mom's color is better, don't you think?" Blake asked from her seat in the other chair on the opposite side of Holly's bed from Roger, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Roger agreed. He wasn't in a very talkative mood, because as much as he wished they had all been wrong, Alexandra, Alan, Hope, Nick, and Ed were right: this was his fault. Plenty of other people had angered Alexandra, but this time, she had gone after him, determined to make him pay for every sin he had ever committed against all things and people Spaulding. Alex had done this to Holly because of him. Once again, his past was threatening his future.

For so long, he had thought that having a life with Holly would be forever consigned to his wildest dreams. But that life was his reality, their reality. He had vowed to himself the day they were married that he would never do anything to risk losing Holly ever again. And they hadn't been married very long, relatively speaking—four months on the 29th of this month, which still made them newlyweds, in a sense—but it was a promise he renewed in his heart and his head every morning when he opened his eyes and she was the first thing he saw.

What if Holly blamed him, the way Ed and the Spauldings did? Would she still be his completely and forever, as she had told him on their wedding night, when she woke up…or would she look at him differently, and see not the man she loved and who loved her, but the man she feared, the man whose fault it was that she was hurt so badly? Would he still lose her, even though she had survived what Alexandra had tried to do to her?

* * *

_April 11, 1995, 9:08 PM—Ed and Maureen's House_

Ed had just opened the front door when he heard Michelle asking, "Dad? Is Holly awake yet? Is she going to be okay?" Michelle was standing there waiting for him, and Maureen was standing behind her, her hands on Michelle's shoulders.

"Let's sit down, honey," Ed said. "Your mom and I need to talk to you."

Michelle looked very worried, but her voice didn't tremble at all as she said, "I'm not a little kid anymore, and Holly is my friend. I want to know how she is, when I can see her, and who did this to her."

Once they were all seated, Ed said, "Holly was very dehydrated when she arrived at the hospital, and that made her very sick. She has a fever, and we have to replenish her fluids and electrolytes-"

"You mean like when I had the stomach flu a couple months ago and you made me drink that sports drink so I didn't dehydrate?" Michelle interrupted.

"Sort of," Ed replied. "Except in Holly's case, because she isn't awake, and because she was very severely dehydrated, she has to get the fluids and electrolytes from IVs."

"But she's gonna be okay?" Michelle asked anxiously. "And I can see her tomorrow?"

"Yes, Holly is going to be okay," Ed assured his daughter. "She should be awake by tomorrow, and we'll need to run a few tests, and she'll have to stay at Cedars tomorrow, but as long as everything checks out, she should be able to go home the day after tomorrow, or tomorrow night, even. And yes, you can see her sometime tomorrow."

"Who did this to her?" Michelle asked. "Was it one of Mr. Davis's relatives?" Ed looked blankly at Michelle and then at Maureen. "He was the guy at Cliff House with the gun on the 4th of July, the one you and Mr. Thorpe saved Holly and me from," she reminded her father.

"No, it wasn't one of his relatives," Ed replied.

"But you know who it was," Michelle said. It was not a question.

Maureen took Michelle's hand in both of hers. "It was Alexandra Spaulding, Michelle."

Michelle was stunned. "Ms. Spaulding?" she asked. "But why?"

"Alexandra is very sick, sweetie," Ed said. "She never would have done this if she was in her right mind. She's at the hospital now too, and Hope and Alan and the kids are there with her, and Nick and Mr. Reade. They're all going to be there for her, and she's going to get the help she needs."

"Ben didn't say anything about it being Ms. Spaulding at Bill's house," Michelle remarked.

"I don't think his father has told him yet," Maureen said.

Michelle looked from her mother to her father. "She took Holly because of Mr. Thorpe, didn't she?" Maureen and Ed exchanged another look.

"Yes," Ed said simply.

"She did it because she knows how much Mr. Thorpe loves Holly. She wanted to get back at him for something, and so she decided to go after Holly, just like Mr. Davis did at Cliff House, because she knew it would really hurt him if something happened to her," Michelle said. She looked to Ed then. "I know that you don't like Mr. Thorpe, Dad, because he did bad things to you and Uncle Mike and Grandpa Bill a long time ago."

For one brief moment, Ed panicked inside, fearing that Michelle was going to ask exactly what those bad things were, and he not only didn't want her to know about them yet, he wouldn't be able to mention most of them without mentioning Holly, because so many of them involved, or were about, her. All Michelle knew was that Ed and Holly had been married a long, long time ago, before Maureen had even moved to town. She didn't know anything about his and Holly's drunken Vegas nuptials, or that Holly had led him to believe that Blake was his daughter until Blake got sick and needed a blood transfusion and Roger, not he, was the match, or about Roger kidnapping Rita and causing her miscarriage (actually, Maureen didn't know about that miscarriage either), or about Roger raping Rita and then raping Holly, or that Holly had shot Roger and gone to jail for it. She had no idea that Roger had shot Bill Bauer on his way out of town to go after Holly and little Blake in Santo Domingo, or that he had kidnapped Holly down there and dragged her through the jungle with Ed and Mike in hot pursuit, with the chase ending in a gun battle and Roger slipping from Ed's grasp and going over the cliff, and Ed still felt that 13 years old was too young for Michelle to know about any of that.

Michelle had been so traumatized the night Ed almost fell over the railing of Cliff House two summers ago after the showdown with Davis that she hadn't picked up on what Roger had said when Ed hadn't been sure he could hold on to Roger's hand long enough for Roger to pull him to safety so that he wouldn't fall to his death on the rocks below: "You asked this once of me, remember?" Ed knew she would find out about that—about all of it—someday, but he didn't want that someday to be tonight.

But to Ed's immense relief, all Michelle asked was, "Did Mr. Thorpe do bad things to Ms. Spaulding too?"

"They used to be married to each other," Maureen said. "And they got divorced."

Michelle looked horrified. "Ms. Spaulding didn't do this to Holly because she wants Mr. Thorpe back, did she?" she asked.

"There's no way he would ever leave Holly for anyone else. And if something happened to her, I think he'd just be alone for the rest of his life."

"No, honey, Alexandra doesn't want Roger back," Ed said. How could he explain this?

Michelle looked relieved about that. She knew how happy Holly was with Roger, and she had seen for herself at Cliff House two years ago that Roger really loved Holly. "So she did it because she's mad at Mr. Thorpe?" Michelle asked. "What is she mad at him about?"

"A lot of it has to do with Spaulding Enterprises," Maureen said. "But yes, Roger did some things that made Alexandra very angry, and because her mind is sick, she kidnapped Holly."

"Where did she take her?" Michelle wanted to know.

"To her house," Maureen said. "She locked her in a wine cellar." "How did Holly get out?"Michelle asked.

Ed and Maureen looked at each other. "We don't know yet," Ed said. "Holly will tell us when she wakes up."

Michelle frowned then, considering something. "Is it wrong for me to be angry at Ms. Spaulding for doing this to Holly?" she asked.

Ed and Maureen exchanged a look. No easy answer existed to that question. "We understand why you feel angry," Maureen said.

"But you need to keep in mind, Michelle, that Alexandra did this because she has been under a lot of pressure for a very long time, and she snapped," Ed said. "If her mind wasn't so sick, she never would have done this."

"So that means, what, that Ms. Spaulding didn't mean to hurt Holly?" Michelle asked.

"Yes," Ed said. "She only did this because her mind is very, very sick. If it wasn't, this never would have happened."

"But whether her mind is sick or not, she did this to hurt Mr. Thorpe," Michelle said.

"Well…" Maureen said.

"Yes," Ed said. "It's not quite that simple, but the bottom line is, yes, Michelle, Alexandra kidnapped Holly to hurt Roger."

The three Bauers were silent for a long moment. Then Michelle said, "I can go and see Holly tomorrow morning, right? I'm on Easter vacation, no school."

"Yes," Maureen said. "We'll go and see Holly tomorrow, but later in the morning, around 10."

"Yes, because she'll need to eat breakfast and have those tests I mentioned, but 10:00 should be fine," Ed agreed.

"And we can take her some flowers and a get-well card?" Michelle asked.

"That's a great idea," Ed said.

Michelle nodded. "I'm just glad Holly's going to be all right," she said.

"We all are," Maureen agreed.

"I think I'm gonna go read for a while before I go to sleep," she said. She hugged Maureen, then Ed, said good night, and headed up to her room.

After Michelle was safely upstairs, Ed let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. "For a minute there, I was afraid she was going to want to know details about my history with Roger," he said.

"So was I," Maureen admitted. "How are Holly and Alexandra?"

"Holly's still not awake yet. They're going to page me when she is, no matter what time that is," Ed replied as he took the seat Michelle had vacated on the couch next to Maureen. "Dr. Braddock was still conducting Alexandra's psychiatric evaluation when I left. It's going to take some time for her to get well."

"It's going to take some time for everyone to recover," Maureen said. She threaded her fingers through Ed's then. "Including you."

"Are you still mad at me for blaming what happened to Holly on Roger?" Ed asked.

"Are you still mad at me for being in the library when Roger was shooting?" Maureen asked.

"I was never mad at you for that. I was scared for you," Ed told her. "I know that you're friends with Roger, but I just can't afford to let my guard down for a second where he's concerned, especially when it comes to you and Michelle." He looked into her eyes then. "I have an ugly history with Roger Thorpe, too. I'm not proud of feeling that Roger deserved this. Holly got hurt, and there's no excuse for that. Objectively, I know it's wrong to feel this way, and I should be ashamed of myself. But my history with Roger is precisely **why** I feel this way. I've learned from that history to be ready when he does something that crashes down around all of us, just like what's happened to Holly. And I've also learned that given the opportunity, he will go after anyone I care about, and that includes Holly and Blake, just because he knows it'll hurt me. That's my history with Roger. I can't ignore it, Maureen."

"And I would never ask or expect you to ignore it," Maureen assured him. She rubbed his shoulder then. "I just hate that all these painful memories have come rushing back to you."

"I'm trying to focus on the positives now," Ed replied. "You're all right, and Holly's going to be okay. And Alexandra is going to get the help she needs."

"Are Alan and Nick going to have to commit her against her will?" Maureen asked.

"I don't know," Ed said. "But Dr. Braddock is the best there is. Whatever it takes, he'll get Alexandra the right treatment, no matter what."

Meanwhile, Michelle was upstairs in her room, thinking about Holly and Roger, and Holly's kidnapping. Ms. Spaulding obviously was sick, like her parents said, to go so far as to kidnap Holly and lock her in a wine cellar. Davis at Cliff House was one thing, but now it had happened again: Roger made someone else angry about something, and they went after Holly in retaliation. She didn't deserve that, and Michelle resolved to point that out to Mr. Thorpe at the hospital tomorrow, in a firm but respectful way.

* * *

_April 11, 1995, 9:36 PM—Cedars Hospital, Psychiatric Ward Waiting Room _

Cutter, Frank, and Metzger had taken statements from Alan, Hope, Alan-Michael, Nick, Faith, and Maureen, who had left to get Michelle and go home. Fletcher had arrived, and Nick was filling him in on what had happened, and what they knew so far. When Dr. Braddock, the Chief of Psychiatry, entered the waiting room, everyone, including the police, turned to look at him as one. Fletcher clenched and unclenched his fists nervously, Hope took Alan's hand in both of hers, and Faith moved to stand between Alan-Michael and Nick, all of them bracing themselves for whatever he had to say.

"I need a bit of clarification," Dr. Braddock began. "Ms. Spaulding was railing mightily against someone named Brandon." At this Alan flinched and then stiffened, and Alan-Michael and Nick exchanged a look over Faith's head. Dr. Braddock consulted his notes. "She was very angrily castigating Brandon, calling him, and I quote, 'you hypocritical tyrant, running off to be with your child while keeping me from my darling Brandon, robbing me of decades I could have had with him before he was taken from me forever.' Were there two men named Brandon in her life?"

"Dear lord," Alan whispered as a shudder involuntarily racked his body.

As Faith and Alan-Michael looked at their father, stunned at his reaction, Nick said, "She was talking about Lujack."

"Yes," Hope replied. She then looked at Dr. Braddock. "Alexandra's father's name was Brandon. That's who she was railing against. When she said 'my darling Brandon,' she was referring to her son. She named him after her father, but the elder Brandon paid off little Brandon's father to take him away from her. She didn't find him until he was grown, and he was killed ten years ago, after they had had only a few short years together. She was the only one who called her son by his given name, Brandon. Everyone else referred to him by his nickname, Lujack, which was a shortened form of his surname, Luvonaczek."

"This isn't just about Roger Thorpe," Nick realized, addressing Dr. Braddock then. "This goes back to Lujack's death."

"It goes back further than that, Nick," Alan-Michael pointed. "It goes back to yours and Lujack's births, the way Grandfather kept Aunt Alex from both of you."

"It goes back much further than that," Alan said hoarsely.

"You're Nick, Ms. Spaulding's son?" Dr. Braddock asked, turning his attention to Nick then.

"Yes," Nick replied. "Lujack was my brother. My identical twin brother, but he was killed seven years before I found out that Alexandra was my mother, so I never got to meet him."

"Then Mindy is your wife?" Dr. Braddock asked.

Nick grimaced. "Soon-to-be ex-wife," he corrected.

"Ms. Spaulding was also railing against Mindy. Something about tampering with a DNA test, and what a…" He consulted his notes again. "…'cruel, vindictive shrew she was to do that to me, especially since she was there when Brandon died and knew what losing him did to me.'"

"She's not wrong about that," Faith murmured. "That **was** cruel and vindictive of Mindy. I've always wondered if Phillip and Beth had still been here if they could have stopped her from doing that to Aunt Alex."

"Rick let her have it when he found out what she'd done, and that was after she left Nick at the altar and ran off because Aunt Alex had found out about it," Alan-Michael reminded his sister, "and Rick's reaction didn't seem to have an effect on her, so Phillip and Beth probably wouldn't have been able to stop her."

Alan took a deep breath, then asked, "Has Alexandra mentioned anything about her childhood, Doctor?"

"Oh yes," Dr. Braddock replied. "Again, most of it comes back to her father."

"My father too," Alan said. He stared unseeingly at something in the distance, his face pale, his features contorted in agony. "I knew it was wrong, what Father did to Alexandra, but I couldn't fight him. I couldn't even make a token protest because I was too afraid that he would turn his attention to me. He was always such a tyrant. Alexandra and I were both fearful of him our entire lives. I can't remember a time I didn't live in fear of my father. Alexandra and I both learned far too young that to fight Brandon Spaulding was to lose, in a painful, humiliating, hateful manner, no matter what the object of the fight. And he did the same thing to me with Amanda that he did to Alexandra with Nick and Lujack, costing me years of Amanda's life that we can never get back."

Faith and Alan-Michael were stunned. Alan Spaulding, afraid? Alan had never been afraid of anything.

Except, apparently, his and Alexandra's father.

"You mentioned Roger Thorpe," Dr. Braddock said to Nick, again consulting his notes. "From what I gathered from Ms. Spaulding, he's married to a Holly Lindsey?"

"Yes," Faith said.

Dr. Braddock nodded. "Ms. Spaulding was very insistent that she had to take Holly to punish Roger because, quoting her again, 'in terms of punishment, nothing else ever worked.' But again, it all comes back to the senior Brandon Spaulding."

This revelation snapped Alan to attention. "In what way?" he asked Dr. Braddock.

"Ms. Spaulding has several grievances against Roger Thorpe," Dr. Braddock began.

"All of them more than justified," Nick muttered.

"But she kept talking about what her father would think and how he would react if he knew what Mr. Thorpe had done with regard to the family company and the family home, particularly in her absence," Dr. Braddock said. "She adamantly insists that her father would be enraged, that he would view her as weak for letting Mr. Thorpe take over both the company and the family home, and that he would maintain that the fault lay with her instead of Mr. Thorpe. She is deeply fearful of her father. Even her anger at the others she mentioned in her stream-of-consciousness ramblings—Roger Thorpe, Mindy Lewis, Eric Luvonaczek—all relate somehow to her father."

Hope realized what this really meant. "Then this is not just about Roger and what he has done to her over the years," she said.

"Ms. Spaulding needs intensive in-patient treatment for several mental and emotional issues," Dr. Braddock replied. "But my preliminary findings very clearly indicate that Roger Thorpe was merely the match that lit the fuse on the powder keg of pent-up anger and resentment and issues that she has held inside for decades. She feels that many of the things that have gone wrong in her life recently have not gone wrong for Roger Thorpe. Seeing him succeed where she feels she has failed was the final straw that pushed her over the edge, and in retaliation for what she perceives as his success at things she has had no success with, along with getting back at him for his earlier takeover of both Spaulding Enterprises and her family home, she kidnapped Mrs. Thorpe. Ms. Spaulding has borne up under lifelong intense, consuming psychological and emotional pressure that began when she was a young child, all of it somehow relating to her father, and she simply could not bear up under that amount and severity of pressure any longer, resulting in her kidnapping of Mrs. Thorpe, and her subsequent breakdown.

"Ms. Spaulding also feels that no one who has ever done her wrong has ever really paid for their wrongdoing. Roger Thorpe, Mindy, Eric Luvonaczek, her father… Mr. Spaulding," Dr. Braddock said, looking to Alan then, "she mentioned that your father not only avoided punishment, but that he finally abandoned both of you after inflicting as much damage on the two of you as he could to live the remainder of his life with his preferred family, to use her words."

"Yes, he did," Alan said, thinking briefly of Sharina and Victoria.

"She feels that while none of these people who wronged her have paid for what they did to her, she has been paying over and over, and sometimes for things that were not even her fault, as with having her sons taken from her. She went after Mindy on Valentine's Day. She struck back at Roger Thorpe by kidnapping his wife now. Her father is dead, isn't he?"

"Yes," Hope replied.

"And what about Eric Luvonaczek?" Dr. Braddock inquired.

"They're not in contact," Nick said stiffly.

"If he ever comes near her for any reason ever again…" Fletcher threatened.

"She also blames herself for what happened to your family, Mr. and Mrs. Spaulding. She feels that she was ultimately responsible for your wife and children leaving the family home after you went to jail, Mr. Spaulding," Dr. Braddock said, addressing Alan and Hope now.

"No!" Alan insisted. "That was not her fault in any way! I was in league with Roger first! She never would have met him if it hadn't been for me! My going to jail for five years was most emphatically not Alexandra's fault! She helped my wife and children immeasurably during that time!" He looked sickened at the thought that Alexandra would blame herself for his own rash actions and poor judgment in dealing with Roger Thorpe after what had happened the first time he had done so, years before Alexandra even came to Springfield.

"My moving out didn't have anything to do with Roger, at least not directly," Alan-Michael said then. "Blake and I got divorced, and I wanted a fresh start. Yes, Blake is Roger's daughter, but the end of my marriage to her is the main reason I moved out, not him and not that he was married to Aunt Alex then."

"And Mom and I didn't move out to punish Aunt Alex!" Faith exclaimed. "Roger couldn't be trusted. He had already used me to get information on my family, and I was still a teenager then. We moved out so that we didn't have to live with Roger, not because we didn't want to live with Aunt Alex!"

"Faith is right," Hope agreed. "We moved back into the mansion after Alexandra and Roger split up. I had no idea she felt that way." Hope looked stricken.

"Alexandra is concentrating now on everything she has lost, and all the things that she feels are her failures," Dr. Braddock concluded. "She feels that she's been paying in spades, and everyone else hasn't been paying, or worse, that their lives have been getting increasingly better than hers, like Roger, and like her father before he died." Fletcher winced at this, remembering his talk with Alex before he and Ben moved out, when he had told her that Roger was better at his marriage to Holly than Alex was at her relationship with Fletcher. He could kick himself now for making that remark.

Alexandra's loved ones all looked dazed at these revelations.

Nick was realizing a few things about his relationship with Alexandra. From what he knew about Alexandra and Lujack, their beginning was similarly rocky to his own with Alexandra, but she and Lujack did eventually develop a deep, warm relationship, which was then shattered by Lujack's death. Nick understood now that at least part of the reason there was still a sense of detachment between himself and Alexandra was that she was afraid of losing him the way she lost his brother. It hadn't stopped her from fighting for Nick's love and acceptance, and they were closer now than they were when they first learned they were mother and son, but Nick saw now, in a way that he never had before, that both his involvement with Melinda, and his and Alexandra's battles over his place in Spaulding Enterprises and how big a part he would ultimately take in the company, served as buffers of a sort, keeping a few walls carefully in place between them that kept them from getting too close. Part of that was on his side, but he wondered now if Alexandra's part in their detachment was a protective mechanism on her part, to keep her from getting as close to him as she had gotten to Lujack before Lujack's untimely death.

Alan-Michael and Faith were both stunned by the revelation that Alan and Alexandra had both been afraid of their father their entire lives. They had known that Brandon Spaulding was a hard, cold man, and he certainly never would have been the kind of grandfather to them that Mike Bauer was. But they saw for the first time just how much of a monster Brandon had been to their father and aunt, and that, coupled with Alan's reaction to learning that Brandon was at the root of Alexandra's breakdown and the actions surrounding it, stopped them both cold, and made them both grateful for the kind of father their father had turned out to be, because he had clearly worked very hard to break from Brandon Spaulding's mold when it came to his relationships with his children.

Alan was feeling incredibly guilty. He understood for the first time how unfair it must have always seemed to Alexandra that he had a strong, loving marriage with Hope, and that he got to raise three of his four children. She had been cruelly robbed of the lifetime of one son, and the first thirty years of the other's existence, and while he had never thought any of the men Alexandra had been involved with had been worthy of her-with the exception of Fletcher Reade, the one man Alan knew could not be bought or sold and the one man who was actually with Alexandra because of his feelings for her and not her bank account-he had always genuinely wished that Alexandra could find with someone what he had found, and miraculously managed to build and hold onto, with Hope. Yet despite this, Alex had stuffed her own pain down and had always been truly happy for him. She thought Hope was wonderful, and the two of them had grown closer than ever while he was in prison. She was a wonderful aunt to all four of his children and always had been, and the greatest compliment Alexandra had ever paid him was her praise of him for not treating Phillip, Amanda, Alan-Michael, and Faith the way Brandon had treated the two of them from the cradle onward.

Roger Thorpe was a symptom, but the disease began with Brandon Spaulding. Alan was the only other person on the planet who knew firsthand what it was like growing up, and then continuing to live, under Brandon Spaulding's thumb. He would never know why fate had sent Hope into his life and made him smart enough to finally live his life in the better, healthier way that she showed him while showing no such kindnesses to Alexandra, but he dedicated himself then and there to doing everything he could to help his sister heal.

For his part, Fletcher felt nothing but love for Alexandra. He knew that if she was herself right now, she would chide him, thinking his love was fueled by pity, but he didn't pity her at all. He had always thought she was a strong, iron-willed lady. Now he knew just how strong she truly was, and he admired her even more for not having come undone years earlier. Yes, what she had done to Holly was evil, but she had to go completely off the rails before doing something that evil, which was more than could apparently be said for the bastard who had raised her and Alan and inspired nothing but terror and deeply rooted emotional and psychological pain, particularly in Alexandra. If that hack Nowitzki wrote so much as one sentence fragment about any of this, Fletcher would cheerfully punch his lights out and then fire him. He vowed that he would be there for Alexandra as she recovered from all of this, and after that, he wanted nothing more than to start all over again with this remarkable woman.

In that moment, Hope knew she had done the right thing in calling her father. Yes, she was biased, but as great an attorney as Ross was, Mike Bauer was even better, and Alexandra definitely needed the best now. Hope was no mental health professional, but she didn't believe that Alexandra needed to stand trial for this. Yes, she had done a terrible and undeserved thing to Holly, but she was clearly not in her right mind. Hope knew that her father wouldn't rest until he had exhausted all legal avenues available to keep Alexandra out of court.

Of course, the fly in the ointment was obviously Roger. If something like this had happened to a member of her family, Hope's instinct would be the same as Roger's: to demand justice. But Roger was incapable of seeing the whole picture here. He only saw Alexandra as the person who had kidnapped his beloved wife. He didn't, and wouldn't, care that extenuating circumstances surrounded the kidnapping that truly made Alex not legally culpable for her actions. Hope didn't hold Roger in any kind of regard, knowing his history with both sides of her family, especially her Uncle Ed and Alexandra. But she did still think highly of Blake, their bond having been cemented when Hope was there for Blake after she first fell in love with Ross, when neither Roger nor Holly had been accepting of Ross and Blake's burgeoning relationship and Blake had desperately needed someone to talk to and someone to understand that no matter how the whole thing may have started, what she and Ross had was real and deep and had the potential to last forever and was about one thing and one thing only: love. And Hope and Holly had mended their fences after Holly had accepted Blake and Ross's relationship for what it truly was and had thanked Hope for being there for her daughter when she hadn't been able to, the reasons not needing to be vocalized because Hope already knew about them from Blake.

Roger's world revolved around Holly and Blake. If they couldn't make Roger see that continuing this war between their two families would only keep the cycle of retaliation and rage continuing, to the detriment of everyone in both families, then no one could. But Hope believed that Holly and Blake could do it. And she decided then and there that she would do whatever she could to convince them to make it happen. She would start with Blake, and if Blake was not amenable to her request, she would approach Holly. Though both women had good reason to be angry at Alexandra—and Blake clearly was, going off of her words and actions earlier tonight—both of them would see reason a lot more easily than Roger. For her family's sake, and for Alexandra's sake especially, Hope knew that she had to succeed at this.

"Dr. Braddock, will Alexandra be able to come back from all of this?" Alan asked anxiously then.

"It will be a long road, and she does need intensive treatment and therapy," Dr. Braddock replied, "but yes, I believe that she can make a full recovery. It's going to take time, though."

"Could I see my mother?" Nick asked.

At the same time, almost in unison, Alan asked, "Could I see my sister?"

"We still need a statement from Ms. Spaulding," Cutter said then.

Alan frowned at Cutter. "Absolutely not! My sister is not speaking to any of you until her attorney is present and accounted for!" he proclaimed.

"Is Ross still here somewhere with Blake? I'll go and get him," Faith offered then.

"As if I would trust Ross Marler with Alexandra's future in this case," Alan said contemptuously. "Her attorney hasn't arrived yet. He's flying in from Washington, and he'll be here in the morning."

"You called Grandpa?" Faith asked, surprised. She was the only one who hadn't been there when Hope had called Mike before they had left for the hospital. "Since when isn't Ross good enough? He's practically family, anyway!"

"Blake might understand if Ross defended Alexandra, but Roger would never forgive him," Nick pointed out.

"Roger is going to do everything he can to bury Alexandra. I allowed her state of mind to deteriorate this far. I'll do everything I can to protect her from Roger until she's well enough to protect herself, and I know that Mike will do everything legally possible to keep her from ever seeing the inside of a courtroom, or worse," Alan said firmly.

"I'm sorry, but she's asleep right now," Dr. Braddock replied.

"Did you have to sedate her again, like you did on Valentine's Day?" Faith asked.

"No," Dr. Braddock replied. "She fell asleep on her own, from complete physical and emotional exhaustion. There really isn't anything any of you can do for her until tomorrow, so I would advise that you all go home and get some sleep now."

"Even if I can't see her until tomorrow morning, I'm staying right here!" Nick insisted. "I know that Roger's in the ICU with Holly, and Alan, I know that your private security detail will be arriving shortly, but I'm going to stay here all night, just in case my mother should need anything that I can get for her."

"I have to go back to the _Journal _and put the paper to bed," Fletcher said, looking at his watch, "but then I'll come back and keep you company, Nick. Ben is staying with Bill over at Vanessa's, and I'm not picking him up until tomorrow morning. I want to be here too."

Hope looked at Faith and Alan-Michael then. "You kids definitely need to go home and get some sleep," she said. "It's been a very long night for all of us."

Alan-Michael looked to Detective Cutter, who was still there; Frank and Metzger were guarding Alexandra's room until Alan's private security detail arrived. "Are we free to go?" he asked.

"We have everything we need," Cutter replied, tucking his notebook and pen into his inside jacket pocket.

Alan-Michael looked to his parents. "It's still fairly early in Arizona. Do you want to call Phillip, or shall I?"

Hope knew that Alan wasn't really up to rehashing all of this with Phillip over the phone right now, but she wasn't sure if he would agree to let Alan-Michael call him, so she suggested a compromise: "Actually, Alan-Michael, if you could call Phillip tonight, and tell him that your father and I will talk to him tomorrow, and that we'll know more about Alexandra's condition and her treatment options then, we would really appreciate it." Alan didn't protest, so Hope took his silence as acquiescence.

"Sure," Alan-Michael replied. "What about Amanda? Do you want me to call her too?"

"She's in Montreal on business," Alan replied. "I'll call her at her hotel tomorrow, after we know something a bit more definite to tell her and Phillip."

Alan-Michael nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "I'll call Phillip as soon as I get home."

While Alan-Michael had been talking to Alan and Hope, Nick and Faith had been talking quietly across the room, and Alan-Michael joined them in time to hear Nick say, "For all I can't understand of what Alexandra and Alan can do to each other, the way they stab each other in the back over Spaulding, I think I understand better now why they can still manage to adore each other and fight **for** each other against anyone else while fighting **against** each other."

"The company is poisonous," Alan-Michael said. "Dad and Aunt Alex have fought over it for decades, and Phillip and Amanda and you and me, Nick…they've always fought over the place each of us will have in the company. You're lucky that your path to career fulfillment doesn't have anything to do with the company," he said, looking at his younger sister.

"I'm not sure it's the company that's poisonous," Faith said. "I think it's all him. Our grandfather, the monster. He set Dad and Aunt Alex up to fight over the company, even long after he was really gone. Are they ever going to stop paying for everything he did to them?"

Meanwhile, Hope was trying to console Alan. "Alexandra and I always prided ourselves on protecting each other from the world, and it's all been a lie," Alan lamented. "I couldn't protect her against Father. I couldn't shield her from losing her son just when they were starting to enjoy a wonderful relationship. I couldn't protect her—protect any of you—from Roger while I was in prison, and I couldn't protect her from Mindy's cruel machinations in trying to keep Nick from finding out that Alexandra was his mother."

"You did the best you could, darling, and Alexandra knows that," Hope replied. "She knows how much you've always loved her, and that you always did your best to defend her. And what happened to Lujack was tragic, but it certainly wasn't something you could have prevented. As for Mindy, what she did to Alexandra and Nick was despicable, but again, we didn't know she was going to do it until she did, and none of us could have prevented it. I believe that Alan-Michael was right when he said that not even Phillip and Beth could have prevented it if they'd been here. Rick **was** here, and he could only let her know how disappointed and disgusted he was with her behavior after the fact, and if she were going to listen to anyone outside her family, it would have been one of them."

"As far as I'm concerned, Nick is well rid of her," Alan said disgustedly. "And then that day at the country club, when we ran into Roger...Alexandra told me later what he said, when we were waiting for the board meeting to begin." Guilt flashed across his features at the mention of the board meeting.

"What did he say?" Hope asked.

"He was talking about Mindy, and about what happened on Valentine's Day, and rubbing Alexandra's face in the fact that she was alone," Alan replied.

"Not alone, Alan. Never alone," Hope said.

Alan looked at his wife gratefully. "I've never properly thanked you for staying so close to her while I was in prison. She loves you, very much."

"And I love her, very much," Hope replied. "We all do."

"Yes," Alan said. He looked to Nick then. "And your mother loves you very much, Nick."

"I know," Nick replied. "I love her too, Alan. And I'm going to do everything I can to help her get well."

"We all will," Hope pledged, and the others wholeheartedly agreed.

Fletcher left to put the _Journal_ to bed then. Nick settled outside Alexandra's room with Frank and Metzger to wait for Fletcher to return. When Alan's private security detail arrived, while Alan spoke to them, Hope told Alan-Michael and Faith that she would be right back, and made her way to the ICU waiting room. Ross was still there, leafing listlessly through a magazine. "Ross?" Hope asked. "Has there been any word on Holly?"

"Hope," Ross said, setting the magazine aside. "She's not awake yet, but she's still listed in serious but stable condition. Blake and Roger are still with her. How is Alexandra doing?"

Hope sighed. "This whole nightmare goes so much deeper than any of us realized," she said. "I'm afraid it's going to be a long time before Alexandra is truly healthy again. But we're going to get her the help she needs and stand by her."

"If you want me to call Phillip—" Ross began.

"Thank you for the offer, but Alan-Michael already volunteered to call him," Hope replied. "Alexandra is sleeping, and we've been told there's nothing more we can do for her tonight, so we're going to be heading home to try and get some sleep, except for Nick. He insists on staying here, and Fletcher is going to come back and stay with him once the _Journal_ has gone to press."

She looked at Ross earnestly then. "It came as such a terrible shock to all of us that Alexandra was responsible for Holly's kidnapping. When I think of how Holly must have felt, what she must have gone through trying to get out of that wine cellar…I know it didn't seem like it at the time, Ross, but all of us got a good look at her after she collapsed, and she had obviously been through a harrowing ordeal. We were all reacting from shock and fear for Alexandra when we were downstairs with you and Blake and Maureen and Roger earlier."

"That's completely understandable, Hope," Ross replied. "I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that Alexandra did this to Holly. I remember Valentine's Day, but I never dreamed something like this would happen just a few months later."

"None of us did," Hope said. "Would you please let Blake, and Roger too, know how deeply, abjectly sorry I am for what happened to Holly, and let them know that I truly, sincerely hope that Holly makes a full recovery, not just for her own sake, but for both of theirs as well."

"I will," Ross promised. "Considering how this evening began for all of us, it was nice of you to include Roger in there."

"The fact that he loves Holly more than life itself has never been in doubt," Hope replied, "except maybe as far as my Uncle Ed is concerned. And it occurred to me that if I were the one who'd been taken, Alan would do the exact same thing Roger did tonight if he believed he knew who had taken me."

"I don't doubt that for a second," Ross agreed.

"And despite Alexandra's adverse reaction, things have been more peaceful without Roger plotting ways to steal the company out from under my family," Hope admitted.

"Roger **has** been considerably less of a menace since marrying Holly," Ross agreed, "his shooting up your library tonight notwithstanding."

"I should get back," Hope said then. "Oh, could you also tell Blake that I'll try to stop by and see her and Holly sometime tomorrow?" Hope asked.

"Certainly," Ross replied.

By the time Hope returned to the Psychiatric floor, Fletcher had returned from the _Journal, _bringing coffee and sandwiches for himself and Nick. Alan was just finishing up briefing the private security team he had hired on what he expected from them in their guarding of Alexandra's room, which would be continuing for as long as she remained at Cedars. Alan had given them a detailed list of people allowed in to see Alexandra, and an equally detailed list of people who were to be shot on sight if they got as close as 100 feet from the door to her room.

After the private security team took over for Frank and Metzger, they gave Faith a ride back to the station to pick up her car to go home, since all three of them were off duty by then. Alan-Michael also headed home to the yacht, to call Phillip in Arizona and tell him what had happened tonight and that Alan and Hope would be calling him tomorrow with an update on Alexandra.

Alan and Hope were the last to leave Cedars, and on their way out, they saw Ed rushing in. "Uncle Ed, I thought you went home?" Hope said as he hurried past them.

"They paged me. Holly's awake!" he called over his shoulder before the elevator doors opened to take him upstairs to the ICU.

Hope was glad to hear that Holly was awake. Alan looked relieved, but said nothing, his thoughts still whirling about Alexandra and Brandon. "Let's go home, darling," Hope said, putting her arm through his. "Dad will be here early in the morning, and we'll have to pick him up at the airport and fill him in, and then I'm sure he'll want to see the kids, and Uncle Ed and Maureen, and then he'll need to come here and see Alexandra, if she's up to seeing him."

"Yes," Alan said. "He's already on the list of approved visitors for Alexandra, with both the hospital staff and the private security team." He looked at her then and said determinedly, "Alexandra is not going to court over this, Hope. I simply won't allow it."

"Neither will Dad," Hope assured her husband as they exited the hospital. As they walked to the car, she noticed that it had stopped raining, and the sky had cleared enough that the moon and several stars were clearly visible. She prayed that the earlier storm having passed would turn out to be a good omen, for both her family and Holly's family.

* * *

_April 11, 1995, 10:34 PM—Cedars Hospital ICU, Holly's Room_

"Daddy?" Blake asked, breaking another long silence.

"Hmm?" Roger said, not taking his eyes from Holly, his hand still resting beneath hers, his chin propped on his other hand, which was resting palm down on the bed railing.

"Do you remember the first time you met Mom?"

That question made Roger sit up and look at Blake. "Of course I do," he said.

"I've never heard that story," Blake said. "Will you tell it to me?"

"The first time your mom and I met," Roger said, thinking back. He hadn't thought about it in ages, but he would never forget it…

_**{{**"Very impressive, Thorpe," Stanley Norris said as he set aside the presentation Roger had put together. "With a mind like this, you're definitely going places."_

_"Thank you, Mr. Norris," Roger replied. _

_ "Brinkman will be here at 9:00 tomorrow morning for our meeting," Stanley continued. "I want you to sit in. And I want you here at 7:00 tomorrow morning to prepare for the meeting." Stanley's intercom buzzed then. "Yes, Mildred?"_

_ "Your daughter is here, Mr. Norris," Mildred replied._

_"Send her in," Stanley said. _ _ Stanley turned his attention to a file on his desk then, but Roger stood up, buttoned his jacket, and was looking right at the door when the girl walked in. _ _ She stopped beside her father's desk, silently waiting for her father, who was still engrossed in the file, to acknowledge her. Roger, still standing in front of the desk, couldn't take his eyes off her. _

_She looked to be about 18 or 19, not too far removed from high school. She was petite, with auburn hair brushing her shoulders, held off her forehead with a yellow headband, and expressive brown eyes. She wore a white blouse, a canary yellow miniskirt, white knee socks, and brown shoes with silver buckles, and she was carrying a stack of books and a yellow purse. Roger quickly counted four books nestled in the crook of her right arm. _ _ Then her gaze shifted to him, and their eyes locked. He smiled brightly at her. She didn't return the smile, but her eyes looked at him less warily than they had looked at her father. _

_ Stanley Norris looked up from his file then, and looked at his daughter. "More books?" he asked, frowning. _

_ "Yes," she replied simply._

_ "All dead poets, I suppose," Stanley said mockingly._

_"They're the best kind," she said breezily._

_"Don't get fresh with me," Stanley warned sternly._

_"I'm sorry, Dad," she replied contritely. _

_ "Keys," Stanley said, holding out his hand for them. "I'll drive home."_ _ When the girl shifted the books to her other arm to retrieve the keys from her purse, her father impatiently goading her all the while, Roger tilted his head to try to read the spines of the books she was carrying, but he couldn't make any of them out. He tilted his head further, getting an excellent look at her legs in the process, but he still couldn't see the books._

_ By now, she had handed the car keys to Stanley, so she noticed Roger's tilt of the head, and then the way he looked down and then up her legs. Was he trying to read the spines of her books, was he checking her out, or was he trying to look up her miniskirt?_

_ "Roger," Stanley said, turning back to face him now. Roger quickly snapped his head upright. The girl almost succeeded at hiding her smirk, but not entirely. Stanley didn't notice either Roger's tilted head or his own daughter's brief smirk in Roger's direction._

_"Yes, Mr. Norris," Roger replied. "I was just wondering who the lovely young lady is."_

_"Oh, that's just my daughter, Holly. She'll be a sophomore at Springfield University this fall. Holly, this is Roger Thorpe, my top junior executive," Stanley said, perfunctorily performing the introductions. "Now, about the meeting…." Stanley droned on about Brinkman, but Roger didn't hear a word he said because a glance over Stanley's shoulder revealed that Holly had crept forward to snatch a piece of paper and a pen from Stanley's desk, and she was quickly writing something on the piece of paper. _ _ She had just finished writing a few seconds before Stanley said, "Holly, we're leaving. Now. Thorpe, tomorrow morning, 7:00 AM sharp."_

_"I'll be here," Roger said. Stanley was already headed for the door. Roger smiled at Holly again and said, "It was nice meeting you, Holly."_

_"It was nice to meet you too, Roger," Holly replied. She stuck out her hand and he shook it, and when he drew his hand away, the note she had written was folded up inside his palm. _

_"Holly, what are you still doing over there?" Stanley wanted to know from the now-open door._

_ "Nothing, Dad," Holly replied. _

_ As Holly walked quickly to the door, Roger unfolded her note. Her penmanship was rushed but legible. _

_The note read: _

_"Dear Mr. Thorpe,_

_ If you were trying to look up my skirt, I'm not that kind of girl. _

_If you were ogling my legs, you could have been a bit more subtle about it._

_If you were trying to read the authors of the books I'm carrying, they are as follows:_

_Robert Browning_

_ Algernon Swinburne_

_Walt Whitman_

_Ralph Waldo Emerson_

_So, which are you: a voracious reader, a girl watcher, or just another guy on the make?_

_And didn't anyone ever tell you it's impolite to stare?_

_Holly Norris"_

_Roger was grinning when he finished the note. He looked up as Holly was walking out the door, just in time to see her turn her head, look back over her shoulder at him, and flash him a dazzling smile. A real smile this time, not the smirk she had fought not to show earlier when she caught him staring at her._ _ He grinned back at her, and then she was gone with her father. _

_The old man was a definite hardnose, crooked as a snake with the integrity to match, but Holly Norris was obviously **not** her father's daughter, as she had stood up to him. Of course, she apologized for doing so the next minute, but Roger could imagine, based on the kind of boss he was, what kind of father old Stanley was: probably about as close to his daughter as Roger's father Adam was to him, which was to say, not close at all, and constantly disapproving of everything about their child. She was apparently living under the old man's roof at least for the summer, so Roger could understand Holly trying to go along and get along as much as she could._

_Roger's impression of Holly was that she was smart (he pegged her for an English major, but based on the brief remarks she exchanged with Stanley, she obviously enjoyed reading for fun), she was beautiful but had no idea just how beautiful she was (Roger had never liked stuck-up girls who thought every guy should fall at their feet and drool over them), with a dry sense of humor (he was impressed that she called him out the way she did in her note, before he had even spoken one word to her). She had an air of innocence about her, but he definitely saw wariness in her eyes, which he guessed had to do with her father. She didn't come off as having a sense of entitlement because of her father's wealth, and she was apparently rebelling in academia (Stanley was definitely the type not to encourage education in the liberal arts, probably wanting his daughter to either follow him into business, or, much more likely, to snare herself a rich husband and concentrate on raising children and chairing various society functions and charities). In the few minutes he had just seen her, he had seen that she clearly had a mind of her own and a lot of spunk, even if she wasn't comfortable showing it consistently around her father, which Roger could totally understand given the old man's personality._

_ He folded her note again and put it in his pocket. Holly Norris had made quite an impression on him. Smart, funny, feisty, and a looker. That was a very appealing combination. And she was the boss's daughter to boot. Maybe dating her could score him some points with the old man._

_ It looked like he wouldn't just be working all summer after all. He decided to drop by the library on his way home and see what they had by the poets Holly was reading. It had been a few years since he'd had a literature class, and he might as well get off on the right foot with her by trying to impress her with some hastily gained knowledge about one of her interests. _ _ His step was light and a bit jaunty as he made his way to his car, not realizing that he was whistling "Brown-Eyed Girl" under his breath until he was halfway to the library.**}}**_

"I had the feeling you noticed Mom right away," Blake said with a smile. "But I'm not sure I believe you were really trying to see who wrote the books she was carrying." She pinned him with a look.

"I really was trying to see the books," Roger insisted.

"Uh huh," Blake said skeptically, sounding so much like Holly when she said it that Roger felt a jolt of emotion punch him in the heart. Then Blake grew serious. "Did you have any idea that day that Mom would be The One?"

"That day? No," Roger said. "I liked her that day. But knowing that she would be The One took a while."

"Then you didn't just date Mom because her father foisted you off on her, or to try to score points with him," Blake said.

"That was how it started out," Roger admitted. "Smart, pretty girl who would keep me on my toes and just happened to be the boss's daughter…yeah, I thought I could get in good with the old man if I dated her, and he didn't object. He encouraged me to spend time with her, in fact. But the more I got to know her, the more fascinated by her and interested in her I became, and then I fell in love with her, and I fell hard." He looked at Holly again."I've been in love with her ever since. Even all the years we were apart, when you both thought I was dead…with all the reasons I gave her to hate me…even when we hated each other, my love for her was still there underneath it all." He reached out to stroke Holly's hair again. "She's the best thing that ever happened to me, and she gave me the other best thing that ever happened to me." He looked at Blake then, and she smiled back at him, knowing he was talking about her. He looked back at Holly once more, pensively. "But everything went so wrong back then. Neither of us knew what we were doing, how to fix things, how to make it right, how to make it work."

"But you know now," Blake said emphatically, "and you're doing it now. I've never seen either of you as happy as you've been since you got married. You and Mom are light years away from the bad stuff."

Roger looked at Blake sadly. "Up until yesterday, I would have agreed with you," he said.

"I know you're not surprised that Ed said what he did downstairs," Blake said, "and of course the Spauldings are going to blame you. I'm surprised they don't blame you every time the stock market dips. But we don't know that Mom is going to blame you, Dad."

"She should," Roger said quietly.

"Yes, because how dare you build your own life with Mom that doesn't revolve around Spaulding Enterprises," Blake said sarcastically. "Alexandra expected you to drop everything and do her bidding to keep Alan out as CEO, and she got mad at you when you wouldn't because she thinks of you as her minion, a weapon she can use against him. And that's on top of her still being mad at you for stuff that happened years ago. And so when she decides to get back at you for all these things, she hits you where she knows it will hurt you the most: by kidnapping Mom. I knew Alex was vindictive, but this is a new low even for her.

"And Mom knows what Alex is about. Back at the mansion, Alex even said that Mom told her the same thing you did, about not being able to have it both ways in terms of what she hates you for. So Mom knows the score here." Roger didn't say anything, but Blake could tell that he was still unconvinced, still fearful that Holly would blame him and hate him for what had happened to her the way Ed and the Spauldings had. Blake honestly didn't believe that would be the case, but even if Holly did blame Roger for this, Blake knew that Ross was right: she would forgive him and they would go on from here, because her parents loved each other too much to live without each other anymore.

Blake stood up then. "I'll be right back. I have to go to the ladies' room."

After Blake had left the room, Roger shifted forward to the edge of his chair, looking at Holly intently. "I swore to myself that I would never hurt you again, not like this," he said, "and I failed. Ed and Alan and Hope and Nick, they were right. This happened to you because of me. If you blame me for this…if you hate me for it…if…" He swallowed hard. "You have every right, Holly. But no matter what, I swear to you on my life that I won't let Alexandra get anywhere near you ever again."

Wearily, he adjusted his chair, and, his hand still resting under hers, he leaned forward and laid his forehead on the edge of the bed next to their joined hands, closing his eyes. He was so tired after only ten minutes of sleep in the last almost 30 hours, but he had vowed to himself that he would be the first thing Holly saw when she opened her eyes. He just needed to take a minute or two now to rest his eyes.

Because Roger's head was resting on the edge of the bed and his eyes were closed, he didn't see Holly open her eyes.

She blinked several times before getting her eyes open all the way. The first thing that registered in her mind was that she was in the hospital. She heard the beeping of the heart monitor, saw the austere white walls of the hospital room, and a quick look to her left revealed a familiar head resting on the edge of the bed, and her left hand resting on the bed, covered by his hand. Seeing the IV in her right hand, she carefully slid her right arm across her body, hoping she didn't pull the IV out in the process, but she needed to touch Roger, needed to be sure that he was really there.

Her fingertips lightly grazed his scalp before her hand found the back of his head, cradling it for a long moment before she began running her fingers through his hair, bringing tears to her eyes when she realized he was real.

She heard the door to her room open then and looked up to see Blake entering the room.

Then Roger, thinking it was Blake stroking his hair, spoke. "I'm not asleep, Chrissy. I'm just resting my eyes for a minute."

Blake had tears in her eyes now too as she took in the sight of her now-awake mother stroking her father's hair as his head rested on the edge of her bed. "Daddy, it's not me," she said emotionally.

Roger snapped his head up so fast, Holly was surprised he didn't give himself whiplash. His now-open eyes found hers as her hand stilled on the back of his head, resting there. She felt more tears welling up in her eyes and gave him a watery smile under the oxygen mask she just now realized was covering her nose and mouth. "Holly," he exhaled wonderingly, realizing that she was awake and looking at him and touching him. He vaulted forward to give her a careful hug, and closed his eyes again when he felt her arms, somewhat restricted by her IVs but still hugging him enough so that he could feel it, carefully encircle his torso.

Blake dashed back into the hall, yelling for someone to page Ed Bauer right away and tell him that Holly Thorpe was awake. Then she rushed to the ICU waiting room. When Ross saw her come running in and saw that she was crying, for one second, he thought something bad had happened, that Holly had unexpectedly taken a turn for the worse. But then Blake grabbed him and exclaimed, "She's awake, Ross! Mom's awake!" before flinging herself into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

"That's wonderful!" Ross exclaimed. "Has Ed been paged?"

"Yeah, he went home, but he's on his way back," Blake replied. She pulled back and wiped at her eyes.

"Hope came down here again a little while ago," Ross said then. "She wanted me to tell you how deeply, abjectly sorry she is for what Alexandra did to Holly."

"She did?" Blake asked. She was touched. When Blake and Ross were first together, and Blake needed someone to talk to about their burgeoning relationship when both Roger and Holly were still vehemently against it, it was Hope that Blake had turned to, and Hope had been wonderful to her—more wonderful than Blake felt, at the time, she deserved, considering her histories with both of Hope's sons (for Hope truly considered Phillip her son). Hope was both sympathetic and understanding, having been through a similar situation with her own father when she and Alan fell in love, and she had readily accepted, having known both Blake and Ross for years by that point, that they truly did love each other, no matter what Roger and Holly thought or felt about it back then.

"She did," Ross confirmed. "She also said that she'll try to stop by and see you and Holly sometime tomorrow."

"Good," Blake said. "I'd like to apologize to her for some of the things that Dad said earlier. I've never seen him so hurt or so scared in his life, and that just fueled his anger even more than it already was." She looked up when she saw someone passing by the waiting room door, but it wasn't Ed. "Could you wait here for Ed? I want to get back to Mom."

He kissed her forehead. "I'll come in with him, even if it's just for a minute," he promised. "I'd like to say hello to Holly myself."

Blake smiled at Ross and kissed him quickly before heading back to Holly's room.

Meanwhile, Holly and Roger were still embracing. "Roger," Holly said softly, her voice muffled by her oxygen mask. He drew his head back to look into her eyes, and when he did, she slid her hands around to frame his face in her hands, taking in the deep, tired lines bracketing his bloodshot eyes, and feeling the scratchy stubble darkening his face. Then she noticed her bare left ring finger and her eyes widened in panic. Had she lost her rings in the wine cellar or tunnel?

"What? What is it? What's wrong?" Roger asked anxiously, seeing the look in her eyes.

Holly reluctantly removed her hand from his face and held it up. "My rings," she said worriedly.

In response, Roger held up his own left hand, and when she saw her rings glinting on his pinkie finger, next to his own wedding ring, she visibly relaxed. They must have removed her rings in the ER and given them to him for safekeeping.

Then he carefully removed her rings from his finger and slid first her wedding ring and then her engagement ring back on her finger before bringing her hand to his lips and gently kissing her rings.

"How do you feel?" Roger asked, still holding her hand.

Holly took inventory then. Her headache was gone. She wasn't lightheaded anymore. Her vision was normal. She didn't feel disoriented anymore, or have trouble finishing her thoughts or finding words. She **_was _**still kind of tired, but not so tired she felt like she could pass out at any moment.

"A lot better than I did earlier," Holly replied truthfully. Frowning, she brought her right hand up to pull off the oxygen mask, but Roger caught her hand in his other hand before she could.

"Whoa, what do you think you're doing?" he asked gently.

"Taking off this oxygen mask so I don't sound like Darth Vader lite anymore and so I can kiss you," she replied, trying to tug her hand free from his, but he held on.

"As much as I want to kiss you, I don't know what those numbers mean," Roger said, inclining his head toward the heart monitor behind and to the side of his chair, "so until somebody who does, preferably Ed Bauer or Eve Guthrie since they treated you in the ER, says you don't need it anymore, please just leave it on, okay? For me?"

"Oh, all right," Holly said in a put-upon voice. "But only for you." He was still holding her hands in his. "You didn't shoot anyone at the Spaulding Mansion," she said. At his look of surprise, she said, "I heard a gunshot, and I knew it was you."

"No, I didn't shoot anyone," he assured her. "I just shot a painting off the wall and shattered a lamp. I would never do **anything **to risk getting taken away from you, and they would have locked me up and thrown away the key if I had shot Alexandra. I just… I knew she was the one who took you. I told the police that, but they weren't listening to me. I had to have answers, and I just…I was never going to shoot anyone, but I was frantic, and then Alex made me even angrier with what she said."

_"I would never do __**anything **__to risk getting taken away from you." _ Why did Holly feel like she had heard that somewhere else tonight? She already knew it, but she felt like someone else had said it about Roger before Roger said it himself just now. But who else could have said it?

"What did she say?" Holly asked.

"She wouldn't tell me where you were," Roger said. "She gloated that she had kidnapped you and that she had you somewhere, but she wouldn't say where. The police **finally** showed up, **claiming** they were waiting on a search warrant for the mansion, but you collapsed into the room before they started looking."

On hearing this, Holly felt a surge of anger at Alex for taunting Roger over her whereabouts. "What that must have done to you," she said as she squeezed Roger's hand.

He squeezed her hand back. "You're awake," he said. "That's all that matters."

Blake came hurrying back into the room then. "Ed's on his way!" she exclaimed. She rushed to the other side of Holly's bed. "Mom," she said, her voice cracking, the sheen of tears showing in her eyes.

Roger let go of Holly's hands so that Holly and Blake could hug, and the sight of them hugging brought a lump to his throat. Blake pulled back to look at her mother, resting her hands on Holly's shoulders. "Thank God you're okay," Blake said, sniffling.

Blake's tiredness, though not as acute as Roger's, did not escape Holly's notice, even though Blake's face was wreathed by a joyous smile. Holly looked from Blake to Roger and back again. "We're just getting started being a family," she said, "and we have a lot of years ahead of us. You two aren't getting rid of me that easily."

Ed came in then, Ross hot on his heels. Ross, seeing Holly awake and flanked by Roger and Blake, smiled and said, "It's good to see you, Holly."

"It's good to be seen, Ross," Holly replied.

And Ed resolutely ignored Roger, exchanged smiles with Blake, and greeted Holly with a hearty and relieved, "Welcome back, Holly."


	16. Which to Bury, Us or the Hatchet?

_**Thanks to Mendys for her help with Mike Bauer and Alan Spaulding in this chapter.**_

_April 11, 1995, 10:57 PM—Cedars Hospital ICU, Holly's Room_

"All right, everybody not currently in a hospital bed, clear out," Ed said. "I have to examine my patient."

"You're really going to make me wait outside?" Roger asked. "I won't interrupt or interfere at all, I won't say one word!"

"Get out, Roger," Ed replied testily.

"Ed," Blake chastised gently.

"It's hospital rules, Blake," Ed said. "All of you have to wait outside."

_Well, Ed obviously blames Roger for what happened_, Holly thought. She'd just have to set him straight.

Roger looked at Holly. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise," she told him as she reached for his hand and squeezed it.

He squeezed her hand back. "I'll be right outside," he said. "And I'll be back just as soon as they'll let me in again."

"I'll be here," Holly said with a smile. Blake put her hand on her father's shoulder and ushered him out ahead of her, with Ross following after them.

After her family had departed, Holly cut right to the chase. "This was not his fault, Ed."

"Not entirely," Ed conceded as he warmed his stethoscope between his hands, "but he certainly contributed to it." He removed the oxygen mask, then listened to Holly's heart. "Good," he said. He placed the stethoscope on her back to listen to her lungs and directed, "Deep breath." She complied. "Again." She took another deep breath. "Excellent," Ed said. "You don't need the oxygen anymore."

"Alexandra used me to hurt him," Holly said. "This wasn't his fault. She planned this, Ed, for weeks. I was just a means to an end for her. She told me that herself. And Roger is already blaming himself. He doesn't need you piling on even more guilt."

"Roger was far from innocent here," Ed retorted. "Any headache or dizziness?"

"No," Holly said. "All right, yes, Roger made a lot of mistakes. **In the past**. Alex couldn't let it go, she couldn't forgive him or move on. **That **is why this happened."

"You don't blame him," Ed realized, looking at her now.

"No, I don't," Holly replied, "and now I have to make **him **see that I don't blame him. He's the reason I fought so hard to get out of that wine cellar, Ed. He's the reason I survived: because we finally have a good life, and I wanted to get back to it, get back to him."

Ed checked her temperature then. "99.7," he said. "Almost back to normal." He looked at the numbers on the heart monitor. "Blood pressure is 120 over 80, heart rate and pulse normal." Then he sighed as he looked at her. "I know that you're happy with him, Holly. But this never should have happened to you, and I can't help feeling that Alexandra wouldn't have gone after you if not for Roger. I hate that you got hurt, and yes, I blame Roger. I can't trust him. I can't let my guard down where he's concerned for one second."

"I know you have plenty of reasons to despise and distrust Roger," Holly said. "But as my friend, I'm asking you to trust **me, **and I'm asking you to not make my husband feel any guiltier than he already does for something that was not his fault."

"Of course I trust you," Ed said. "As for Roger, boy, you don't ask much, do you?"

"Am I going to be all right?" Holly wanted to know then, ready to change the subject.

"You're very lucky, Holly. You have to stay overnight to finish those IVs and for observation, and tomorrow morning I'm going to test your kidney function, do another blood panel, and check your electrolytes. Depending on the results, you might get out of here late tomorrow afternoon. If not then, you should definitely be able to go home the day after tomorrow. But yes, you're going to be all right," Ed replied.

Holly exhaled a sigh of relief. She had made it back to Roger and Blake, and she was going to be all right. "So we're done here?" she asked.

"For now."

"Then could you please send my husband back in?" she asked. "I really want to see him." Ed nodded, then headed for the door.

He turned back at the door and said, "Michelle and Maureen are going to be by to see you tomorrow."

"Good," Holly said with a smile. Then Ed headed into the hall.

As Ed closed the door to Holly's room, Roger, Blake, and Ross all practically pounced on him. "Is she gonna be all right?" Roger asked worriedly.

"She'll have to stay here tonight and most of tomorrow at least, but she'll make a full recovery," Ed replied. "She's asking for you, Roger."

Roger looked over at Blake, whose shoulders were drooping with relief now that the weight of worry about Holly had been lifted from them. "Go," she said, cracking a smile. "I'll be in in a few minutes."

Ross smiled too, glad that Holly was going to be all right.

Then Roger pushed past Ed and into Holly's room.

Holly was propped up in her hospital bed, still pale, still hooked up to the IVs and the heart monitor, but the oxygen mask was gone. As soon as they saw each other, her tired eyes brimmed with joy, and a smile that would put the sun to shame lit her wan face. She had never looked more beautiful to him than she did in that moment, and he just looked at her, glad that she was smiling at him, but earnestly seeking silent permission to take her in his arms and just breathe her in, knowing that she was all right, even if he only got to do it for two minutes before she told him to get the hell out of her room, because if he hadn't done so many things in the past to infuriate Alexandra Spaulding, then she wouldn't be in the ICU right now.

He looked like hell, she thought. She saw for the first time how rumpled he was, and the undisguised fear and uncertainty in his eyes. But she was going to be all right, and they were finally together, and she just wanted to kiss him, and tell him that what happened to her was not his fault, and feel his arms around her until they made him leave while she had those tests in the morning that Ed mentioned.

The look that passed between them and their appraisal of one another took all of one second.

Then Holly held out her hand, and Roger bolted across the room to her side, tripping over his own feet in his haste. Landing on his knees at her bedside, he used the railing on her bed to pull himself to his feet, quickly toed off his shoes, then climbed over the railing and carefully climbed over Holly, settling himself beside her in the bed and pulling her into his arms to hold her as tightly as he could. She flung her arms around him, pulling him so close to her that he could feel the heart monitor leads on her chest through her hospital gown and his shirt. "Am I holding you too tight?" he asked anxiously after a moment.

"That's not possible," she replied, and her voice was quiet but back to normal, no longer the strained, croaky rasp with which she had spoken his name hours ago.

She pulled back just enough to look in his eyes for a few seconds, and then, needing to kiss him, she fused her mouth to his, her lips moving against his sweetly yet urgently. He responded in kind as he let his hands slide up her back to her shoulders and then to tangle in her hair. She then rained gentle kisses over his entire face, and his hands roamed over her cheeks, neck, shoulders, arms, and back, relishing the warm, solid feel of her. Her hands did some roaming of their own, stroking his back and shoulders, caressing his chest, finally ending their trek around his upper body when she framed his face in her hands and kissed his lips once more, reveling in the taste and the feel of him.

"Holly," he whispered huskily against her mouth as they broke the kiss.

She touched his face, and he turned his head to plant a kiss in her palm. "Just let me look at you," she whispered as she gazed into his weary but loving eyes, her fingertips stroking the scratch of his stubbly beard.

They eagerly drank in the sight of each other as Holly caressed Roger's cheek and he gently massaged her shoulder blades. But she saw the shadows in his eyes, and knew that she was right: he did blame himself. "This was **not** your fault," Holly said, determined to make him see that she didn't blame him for this.

Roger looked pained. "Yes, it was," he said. "I caused this." He cracked a short, sad smile. "It's the first time I've ever agreed with Ed Bauer and Alan Spaulding about anything."

"Is **that** what they've been saying?" Holly asked angrily. "That this is **all** your fault? They're wrong!"

"Holly, we both know I'm not blameless here," Roger replied.

"Yes, you did the things that Alexandra is still angry about," Holly said, "and most of them were **years ago**. She's the one who couldn't let it go, who couldn't forgive and get on with her life. Alexandra is completely unhinged, and that is **not **all on you, and I will point that out to Ed, Alan, or anyone else who tries to say that you are the **sole **reason she went off the rails, because you're not. Alan especially has no room to talk, considering that he's the one who threw her out of the CEO's chair after months of trying to take back control of the company from her."

"But you're the one she went after!" Roger exclaimed. "And she went after you because of me!"

She let go of his face to put her arms around him again then, mentally cursing the IVs in both her hands that made it impossible for her to hold him as tightly as she wanted to hold him. "When I woke up in that wine cellar and Alexandra was standing over me, the second I saw her eyes, I knew that she had come completely undone. She was so obviously not in her right mind. She turned all of that insanity full force against you, and she used me to do it. She even told me that I was a means to an end." Roger's jaw tightened at that. "She is very disturbed, but there's no way that you're the **only **one who made her that way. Mindy, Alan, even Fletcher for the simple fact that he moved out on her… They all contributed to her breakdown."

The desolate look in his eyes tore at her heart. "How can you not blame me for this?" he wondered. "My past came back to haunt me in a way I never imagined it could, and you got hurt as a result. You got hurt because of me, Holly, after I swore that I would never let that happen again!"

Then it hit her why Roger was so afraid, what he wasn't saying. "You think I hate you because of what happened to me?"

"I caused you to get hurt," Roger said hoarsely. "And you could have died. You have every right to hate me for that." He looked down at the blanket. "I don't want to lose you over this, but if you at least need to take some time away from me, I'll understand."

"Okay, first of all, **Alexandra **caused me to get hurt when she went off the rails and decided to hurt **you **by kidnapping me," Holly corrected. "I hate **her** for using me to hurt you so deeply, and to prey on your insecurities, but I do **not** hate you. And I didn't die, and I'm not going to." She gently tipped his chin up so he had to meet her gaze. "Roger, look at me." He looked into her eyes, his own eyes still full of remorse and fear. "I am **not** leaving you over this. This was **not **your fault. Alexandra's breakdown is **not **all on you. Yes, you did those things, but you're not that man anymore. I **know **you're not. Alex doesn't, and no matter how many times and how many people—not just me—have told her to forgive, to put it behind her, to move on with her life, she couldn't do it. **That **is why this happened."

She framed his face in her hands again. "Do you know what kept me going, what kept me fighting to get out of there, even when I was so weak that I could barely move? You. You and Blake. I just kept thinking about the two of you, and everything we've all been through these past six years, how far we've all come to get to where we are now, and how much more we still have to look forward to and to do."

She gently stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. "I'm not going to wake up tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, and decide that this was your fault and I hate you for it and leave you over it."

Roger took a deep, shuddering breath then. "I was so afraid I was going to lose you," he said, his voice strained. "I can't live without you, Holly, and I've been so scared I'd have to, first when you were missing, and then before you woke up, and then if you…" He trailed off, unable to force any more words past the lump in his throat.

She caressed his face. "I can't live without you, either," she said softly. "Not happily. If there's anything I'm absolutely certain of, it's that.

"But that's not the **only** thing I'm absolutely certain of. I'm absolutely certain that I don't blame you for this, and that what happened was not your fault. I'm absolutely certain that I love you more than I knew I could ever love anyone, and I'm absolutely certain that I'm not going to leave you over this."

He choked back a sob then, and she pulled him into her arms and held him as tightly as she could. His head fell to her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her as he trembled, the sadness, helplessness, anger, and fear he'd been feeling since being told that she had been kidnapped, and the overwhelming relief and joy that she was going to be all right and that she didn't hate him and wasn't going to leave him for this, unable to be held inside any longer. He broke down completely, finally able to let it all out now that he was in her arms again.

Holly felt Roger's hot tears soaking her hospital gown, his body shaking with silent sobs, and she rubbed his back, whispering "I love you. I'm right here. We're okay," over and over again. She just held on to him and kept repeating those words and rubbing his back as he cried.

At last his quaking ceased. His breathing ragged, he lifted his head to look at her, his eyes swollen, his cheeks wet with tears.

Ever so gently, she wiped at the moisture on his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. "Better?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "Much," he replied croakily as he scrubbed at his face. He took a deep breath then, and found that the boulder that had sat squarely in the middle of his chest since Holly had been kidnapped was gone. She was finally safe, she was going to be all right, she was finally back in his arms where she belonged, and she was going to stay there.

They looked at each other, neither of them saying anything for a moment. "God, I love you, Holly, so much," Roger said emotionally, wrapping his arms around her once more and pulling her close. He stroked her hair, cradling the back of her head. "You're the center of my universe, you're the beat of my heart. I couldn't breathe without you."

Holly tenderly stroked Roger's cheek, and he leaned into her touch, not taking his eyes off her. "You don't have to," she said. "Do you know what I wanted more than anything when I was down in that wine cellar?"

"About five gallons of water," he guessed, which made her laugh.

"Well, yes. But what I wanted most of all was this: to be in your arms…to feel the comfort of your embrace…" Her breath caught in her throat as he slid his palms slowly up and down her back, caressing her. "…and the love in your touch." Her hands made their way to his shoulders and around his neck as she said, "And I wanted to hold you."

Roger's eyelids fluttered then, and Holly saw the battle he fought to open his eyes again. Had he slept at all in the last thirty-odd hours, she wondered.

"You look so exhausted, Roger," she said softly.

He shook his head as if to clear it but only succeeded in making his head swim. "I'm okay," he insisted, but his voice was slurred and sounded far away to both her ears and his own.

"Come here," she said as she shifted so that he had room to lie down. "We both need sleep, and I just want us to hold each other all night long and wake up in each other's arms in the morning."

"I want that too," he replied as he settled himself against the pillow, his arms still around her as she adjusted the blanket to cover them both. She burrowed into his chest then, resting her head in the crook of his neck, her arms wrapped around him as tightly as she could manage with her IVs, and he rested his chin lightly against the crown of her head as he wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could, molding their bodies together, and there was no way either of them would let anyone pry them out of each other's embrace, even if by use of force. If anyone dared try, they each vowed to themselves, they would somehow find the strength to tell that person where they could go and what they could do when they got there.

Holly savored being surrounded by Roger, his arms, his heartbeat, his scent, the feel of his chest rising and falling as he breathed in and out, after being deprived of it all for far too long. She lifted her head and kissed him softly, and he responded drowsily. "I love you," she whispered.

His eyes were closing of their own will. "Love you too," he mumbled. Now that he knew Holly was going to be all right, and now that they were in each other's arms, Roger could finally let go and give in to the bone-crushing exhaustion he was feeling. His eyes drifted shut as he concentrated on the feel of her wrapped up in his arms, her arms around him, her body molded to his, her legs tangled with his beneath the blanket. "''m never letting you go 'gain," he slurred sleepily.

The last thing he heard before sleep finally claimed him was her whispering, "And I'm never, ever letting you go."

His deep, even breaths let her know that he was asleep. Then she closed her eyes, matched her breathing to his, and let his presence soothe her back to sleep.

When Blake came in a few minutes later, that's how she found them: lying in the hospital bed together, Roger's head resting on the pillow, Holly's head resting on Roger's chest, holding on to one another with all their might even in their practically unconscious states. She sank into the chair her father had vacated, watched her parents sleeping safe and sound in each other's arms, and through her tired smile, she cried silent tears of relief and happiness.

She didn't know how long she sat there crying and watching them sleep before she felt Ross's hand on her shoulder. "They're okay, Ross," Blake said softly as she wiped her eyes. "You were right: they're going to get through this."

"I never doubted it for a second," Ross replied honestly. "It's almost midnight, you know, and Roger and Holly are out like lights. We should think about going home and getting some sleep, too. You didn't sleep well last night."

It was only when Ross said that that Blake realized just how tired she really was. "Yeah," she agreed. "I'll bring them breakfast in the morning, something much better than hospital food, and I'll stop by the house and get a change of clothes for Dad, and his shaving kit, too." She stood up, walked the few steps to the bedside, leaned over and kissed the top of Holly's head. Then she walked around the bed to kiss the top of Roger's head. Neither of them so much as stirred. She paused in the doorway to look back at them before turning off the light, leaving her parents to their peaceful, well-deserved slumber.

It wasn't until they were walking down the corridor that Blake remembered something important. "My car is still at Mom and Dad's, and yours is somewhere at the Spaulding Mansion," she said. "How are we getting home?"

"Faith arranged to have my car brought here," Ross said. "I'll take you to pick yours up at your parents' house in the morning."

"So on a scale of one to ten, how mad at Dad are you for hotwiring your car?" she asked.

Ross considered for a moment, then answered when they were in the car. "Three," he said finally. "Between you, him, and Maureen, if he would have told us that he was going to confront Alexandra, I would have been outvoted, because you and Maureen both would have backed him up and agreed to go with him."

"Would you have gone along, if he had told us what he was doing first instead of us having to chase after him?" Blake wanted to know.

"Yes," Ross said without hesitation. "Someone had to keep a level head tonight."

"You did," Blake said. "You and Maureen. You were both way more levelheaded than any of the rest of us, including Ed."

"Cut Ed some slack," Ross told Blake as he exited Cedars' parking lot. "Detective Cutter pointed out that Ed is the one that cleared Roger of any kind of serious suspicion in Holly's disappearance."

"He did say that, didn't he?" Blake said. She leaned her head back against the headrest of the seat. "I'm just so relieved that Mom's okay."

"We all are," Ross said. Blake was so tired that she fell asleep on the ride home. Ross carried her inside. She woke up when he lay her down in their bed, managed to drag off her clothes and drag on a nightgown, and then she was sound asleep again. Ross changed into his own pajamas, stretched his arm across her waist and soon he was asleep as well.

* * *

_April 12, 1995, 6:12 AM—En Route to Cedars Hospital_

It had been another long night in Springfield, but this time it was the Spauldings who, for the most part, spent the night sleepless and worrying, and the Thorpes who slept soundly through the night.

Alexandra slept through the night, but she was the only Spaulding who did. Nick was up all night at the hospital, sitting outside her room with Fletcher, who also didn't sleep. Alan slept fitfully, tossing and turning all night, plagued by bad memories of Brandon Spaulding, and Hope had to wake him from nightmares three times. Neither Alan-Michael nor Faith slept through the night, and in Arizona, Phillip was shocked and upset to learn of Alexandra's condition and didn't sleep much either.

Mike Bauer took a redeye flight from Washington, D.C. and Hope and Alan met him at the airport at 6 AM, after which they headed to Cedars, with Hope and Alan taking turns explaining to Mike exactly what had happened to Alexandra on the drive there. He was shocked to learn what Alexandra had done to Holly, but relieved that Holly was going to be all right. "Alexandra needs intensive in-patient psychiatric treatment, Mike," Alan concluded. "And I want you to do whatever it takes to make sure that she doesn't have to face a trial or any jail time for this."

"I'll do everything I can, Alan," Mike pledged. "There's just one thing I don't understand. Why Holly? Is there some particular reason that Alexandra lashed out at Holly this way, or was this completely random?"

"Dad, Holly and Roger got married about four months ago," Hope replied.

"Roger Thorpe?" Mike asked. "The same Roger Thorpe that you just told me took the company and the house, embezzled from the Spaulding Foundation, and the one that Holly…" He trailed off. "That Roger?"

"Yes," Hope said.

Now Mike understood why Alexandra had gone after Holly: to hurt Roger. Though Roger had always claimed to love Holly, and Holly had been infatuated with Roger years ago, Mike found it hard to believe that Holly and Roger had gotten married to each other again, as he remembered all too well what had happened during their first, disastrous marriage, considering his direct involvement in most of the worst of the devastation. He couldn't believe that Holly would ever let herself in for that kind of hell on earth again—and he wondered why Ed hadn't thought to mention this news even in passing—but at the same time, he knew there had to be more to it than met the eye.

"I'll need to talk to the doctor who did Alexandra's psychiatric evaluation," Mike said then.

"He's the Chief of Psychiatry at Cedars, Dr. Braddock, Julian Braddock," Alan said.

Mike nodded. He would be having a very lengthy conversation with Dr. Braddock, as well as one with Alexandra provided she was up to it. Then he wanted to stop in and see Holly before heading off to wrangle with the D.A. over Alexandra.

When Alan, Hope, and Mike arrived at Cedars, Fletcher had already left for the _Journal_ to check in before picking up Ben at Vanessa's house and telling him what had happened last night. Nick was still there, though, outside Alexandra's room, and he stood up to greet the trio. "Dad, you remember Alexandra's son, Nick," Hope said. "And Nick, you remember my father."

Nick shook hands with Mike. "Thank you for coming, and for helping my mother, Mr. Bauer," Nick said.

"Call me Mike," Mike said, "and Alexandra is family, as well as a friend of mine. I'll do everything I can to keep this from going to trial. What time is Dr. Braddock going to be here?"

"I'll see if they'll page him to come in to talk to you," Nick said before heading to the nearby nurses' station. "The sooner we can get going on this, the better we'll all feel."

While Nick was talking to the nurse about paging Dr. Braddock, Alan went over to look through the small glass window in the door of Alexandra's room. She was still sleeping, and Alan thought that she looked more fragile than he had ever seen her.

Hope looked at Mike, and, understanding her unspoken message, he went over to the nurses' station with Nick to find out when Dr. Braddock would be arriving. Hope joined Alan at Alexandra's door. "I can't fully assimilate that Brandon is still ruining our lives after all these years," Alan said quietly.

"Brandon has always been the demon that you and Alexandra have been fighting all your lives," Hope replied, resting her hand on Alan's arm. She realized yet again how lucky she was to always have her own father, even when their relationship was strained.

"Any time I think about Brandon for too long, I can't help thinking about the disconnect this family has with Amanda, and that's because of him," Alan continued. "I know it's because he kept her from me. Even worse, I don't think Amanda has ever quite gotten past—" He trailed off.

"I know, darling," Hope said, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on her shoulder. "Seeing Alexandra like this, I can't help but think of a time when it was Amanda in a hospital bed the day you found her."

"I always hoped that Amanda might find some peace outside of Springfield, and I think she has," Alan said. "I only wish…"

"That we could be a part of finding that peace," Hope finished.

Alan looked at Alexandra once more. "And now Brandon has reached out from beyond the grave and ensnared Alexandra." He turned to face his wife. "He's beaten me again, Hope. I couldn't protect Amanda from him, and I couldn't protect Alexandra."

"But you did protect Phillip and Alan-Michael and Faith from him," Hope reminded him.

"I can only pray that Phillip follows a better example than I ever provided during his formative years," Alan said. "As for Alan-Michael and Faith, you protected them. You protected them from Brandon's influence, and you protected them from my demons, and for that, you are an angel."

"Alan, you're doing that thing you do every once in a while. I'm not an angel, and I'm not a saint. I'm just your wife, and I love you," Hope said.

Nick and Mike approached cautiously then, not wanting to interrupt or intrude on the moment. "Dr. Braddock will be here in a few minutes," Mike said.

"Good," Alan replied.

Nick looked at Alan, Hope, and Mike then. "There's something very important that I have to take care of," Nick said. "Would you all mind if I went ahead and did that now so that I can get back here as soon as possible to be with my mother?"

"Of course not, Nick," Hope replied.

"Thank you," Nick said with a nod. "I'll be back as soon as I can." Then he walked away with a determined stride, while Alan, Hope, and Mike waited for Dr. Braddock.

* * *

_April 12, 1995, 7:18 AM—Holy Trinity Cemetery, Springfield_

Nick had only been there once before, years ago, but he found it again with no difficulty. He looked at the words carved into the granite headstone:

BRANDON LUVONACZEK

BELOVED SON

JANUARY 19, 1961—DECEMBER 2, 1985

Nick wasn't the type to spend much time in cemeteries, but as he stared at Lujack's headstone, he reflected, not for the first time, that those three lines didn't even come close to telling the story of the man.

Nick hunkered down in front of his brother's grave. "I wish you were here," he said. "Not only because losing you left a hole in our mother that nothing will ever fill, and a wound that will never heal, but because you would be there for her now, when she needs all of her family the most. You loved her, I know you did, and you had a good relationship. Better than my relationship with her. But then, you worked at it and fought for it…you worked at it and fought for it more than I have. You were only just starting to become comfortable with the idea of being a Spaulding. I can relate to that, because I'm not there yet myself, but it's getting…easier, I guess."

He brushed a few dry leaves from the top of Lujack's headstone. "They say you can't miss what you never had. Maybe it's not so much that I miss you. It's more that I know I missed **out **in not getting to know you. And I get the feeling that you wouldn't have put up with the way I treated our mother when I found out I was her son. From what I've heard about you, you would have told me off and punched my lights out for the way I behaved towards Alexandra, and I would have had it coming.

"You were a good son, Lujack. And I bet you would have been a damn good brother too. I haven't been a good son to our mother, not the kind of son I should have been. But I promise you, from here on out, I will be. I'll give our mother all the love and support I can, and I'll give her all of your love and support too. And I'll try to be a lot more patient and understanding with the entire family. That's going to be tougher, but I will try. And Mom **will **be okay. I'll make sure of it."

Nick touched the top of Lujack's headstone, then left the cemetery to return to the hospital and their mother, intent upon keeping the promises he had just made to the brother he had never known.

* * *

_April 12, 1995, 7:44 AM—Cedars Hospital ICU, Holly's Room_

Holly jolted awake after dreaming that she was back in the wine cellar, only there hadn't been a tunnel under the drain as a means of escape. Once her eyes were open, she instantly became conscious of the fact that she was in the hospital, and more importantly, in Roger's arms. He was still sound asleep, his arms still wrapped around her.

She lay there watching him sleep, and it calmed her down. She frowned slightly, remembering the night before, how scared and insecure he had been that she would hate him and blame him for what Alexandra had done. Of the two of them, she had always been the more insecure. _Or have you?,_ she asked herself. _For all his cocky confidence, and his boardroom swashbuckler tendencies that you find so attractive, how many years went by where Roger felt like he couldn't be himself with you, how long was he incapable of opening up to you about how he really felt, and about who he really was? How many times did he start to do that very thing, and then you shot him down? It wasn't until you got back together and started seeing Dr. Janssen that he really started opening up to you and not being afraid that you'd run away, or push him away, like you always did before. What Alexandra did has brought every insecurity he ever had about you, and about your relationship, roaring back to life with a vengeance, and somehow you have to make him comprehend that you don't blame him, and that you're not going to leave him, now or ever, no matter what._

Roger began to stir then, shifting slightly before his eyes opened to find her looking right at him. "You're here," he said.

She smiled at him. "Yes," she replied simply.

He cupped her cheek in his hand then. "May I kiss you good morning?" he asked.

"We're asking now?" she said, surprised.

"Well, you know, morning breath," Roger said, somewhat embarrassed. "That's kind of an issue, considering the kind of good morning kiss I want to give you."

"You really think I care about morning breath?" Holly asked. "Come here, you." She grabbed him and kissed him. They weren't counting each other's fillings with their tongues, but the kiss wasn't entirely chaste either.

They kissed until they heard Ross saying, "Okay, we should come back."

"Oh, they're just kissing Ross. It's not like we walked in on them having sex!" Blake exclaimed.

"Good morning to you too, Blake," Holly said, chuckling.

"Not as good as yours, apparently," Blake replied with an impish grin. "If we'd gotten here a few minutes later, I think we **might** have walked in on you two having—"

"And this is where I drop off the coffee and say, I'm glad you're okay, Holly, and I will see all of you later!" Ross interrupted. He set the cardboard tray carrying three cups of coffee on the rolling tray table and pulled it over to the bed, quickly, and chastely, kissed Blake goodbye, and hurried out of the room.

Blake just grinned. "You both look a lot better this morning," she said as she pulled the chair up beside the bed, setting the white paper bag she was carrying on the tray table beside the coffees, and setting the black leather overnight bag and her purse on the floor by the chair before sitting down.

"So do you," Holly replied.

Blake then produced three scones from the white paper bag and handed two of the scones, with the appropriate coffees (hazelnut latte for Holly, black coffee for Roger) to her parents. "Now," Blake said after taking a sip of her own mocha latte. "How did you get out of that wine cellar, Mom?"

"Through the drain," Holly said. And as they ate, she told Blake and Roger the story of her captivity and escape, concluding, "I searched every inch of that room for another way out. I knew there just **had **to be one. But there wasn't a door in any of the walls, or the floor. That was the one moment that I got really scared. But then I took a sip of some wine that had turned and it gagged me, so I rushed to the large drain in the middle of the floor in case I was about to get sick. It was about five, six feet across. And when I was down there on the floor looking at it, I saw that it was loose, so I found a broken piece of shelf and finally I pried the drain up. There was about a six-foot drop to the tunnel below, and I landed hard, but once I got my breath back, I just started moving forward in the dark, because there were no lights down there, and I didn't have a flashlight or a match or anything. I was too lightheaded to walk, so I crawled the whole way and I finally got to the end of the tunnel. It took some doing to get the deadbolt open, it was one of those sliding locks, but I got it and got outside, somewhere on the lawn, I don't even know exactly where."

Roger felt horrible all over again after hearing about Holly's ordeal in the wine cellar and the tunnel. "I didn't know there was another tunnel," he said, distressed. "I searched the two tunnels I knew about, and I didn't find a trace of you in either one. If I had known there was a third tunnel, Holly, I would have searched it. I would have found you."

"I know you would have," she said, threading her fingers through his. "Even in my condition at the time, though, I knew you were there. As soon as I heard the gunshot, I knew it was you, and I had to get to you."

"And you did," Blake said.

Roger squeezed Holly's hand, looking at her worriedly. "When you started to collapse…" he said.

"Terrifying, isn't it?" she said, looking back at him, passing the hand he wasn't holding through his hair.

Blake knew that she was missing something, that her parents were having a silent conversation regarding some experience they had shared that she wasn't privy to. Watching them now, allthough she had long held the theory that Roger and Holly had always loved each other, she realized for the first time that she had had no concept of the true depth of that love, or of the bond they shared.

"Seeing the person you love more than anything in the world so weak that they literally fall at your feet, or they would if you weren't there to catch them, making you worry that they're…" He couldn't say it. "Yes, that is the most terrifying feeling I've ever felt."

"So let's try not to do that to each other ever again," Holly said softly.

"Agreed," Roger said fervently before pulling Holly into a hug. Blake watched her parents holding each other and smiled.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in," Holly said as she, Roger, and Blake all three turned to look at the door. Holly and Roger still had their arms around each other.

"Good morning, Mrs. Thorpe, Mrs. Marler, Mr. Thorpe," Detective Levy greeted them. Sergeant Crawford was with him. "We need to take your statements about last night." Levy held up a microrecorder. "I think this would be easiest on all of you. Who wants to go first?"

"I will," Holly said.

Levy turned the recorder on and set it on the tray table. "Whenever you're ready, Mrs. Thorpe," he said.

Holly took a deep breath, Roger tightened his hold on her, Blake took her hand, and Holly began, "The day before yesterday…was it the day before yesterday?" Blake and Roger both nodded. "The day before yesterday, I was leaving work at 5 PM. After I helped AJ Chamberlain pick up the papers I made him drop when I literally bumped into him on my way out, I was in the parking lot, and I had just opened my car door and was about to get in when…"

* * *

_April 12, 1995, 9:13 AM—Cedars Hospital, Psychiatric Ward Waiting Room_

Mike had long talks with both Dr. Braddock and Alexandra, and put in a call to the D.A.'s office, before returning to the waiting room, where Alan, Hope, and Nick were all stationed.

"How does the case look, Dad?" Hope asked.

"I wish I could say I was surprised to hear that Brandon Spaulding is at the root of all this," Mike began. "I mean, there's no denying that Roger caused this breakdown—"

"Oh, hang Roger, Mike!" Alan exclaimed. "The only thing I'm concerned about regarding him is what he'll do now, not what he's already done!"

"Well, I very much doubt that Roger will take Brandon into account while he's rampaging around against Alexandra. Now, I managed to talk to some old friends I still have at the D.A.'s office, and I found that a guy named Robinson has been assigned this case," Mike said.

"Oh, good LORD!" Alan exploded.

"I take it you've had dealings with him?" Mike asked.

"Not personally," Alan replied. "But I know he's been making Faith's job more difficult since she joined the police department."

"I don't know much about him, Dad, but I don't think the police department as a whole is very fond of him. He's a publicity hound," Hope added.

"Which means he won't even need the pressure Roger will no doubt put on him to drag Alex through a three-ring circus," Mike said. "He rubbed at his forehead with a sigh. "At least we know going in how much Brandon had to do with this one."

"We were talking about that earlier, Dad," Hope said.

"I won't have Alexandra dragged through a three-ring circus, Mike," Alan insisted. "We've already had to have a difficult conversation with Faith and Alan-Michael and Nick about my father. If Roger and this publicity hound Robinson have their way, this entire family will suffer needlessly. Alexandra must be protected, and the children must be protected."

Mike looked to Hope; they both knew that Alan had to be handled very carefully in this kind of mood, because this was exactly the kind of mood that used to spell disaster for Hope in the early years of their marriage. "I know that you don't want Alan-Michael and Faith to know any more about their grandfather than you've already told them, Alan," Mike said. "I don't want that either."

Nick spoke then, for the first time since Mike had joined them. "I know that Alan-Michael and Faith and I got an earful about Brandon Spaulding last night," he said, "but I think they would both agree with me if they were here that we need to get everything out in the open, Alan. This may sound naïve of me, but how much uglier can it really get? It's keeping all of the fear and anger and resentment she has always felt against that monster inside that drove my mother to her current state. **All **of us need to know everything there is to know of any significance so that we can all, finally, leave Brandon Spaulding rotting in his grave where he belongs."

"Nick is right, darling," Hope said. "I know this is going to be very difficult for you, but I'll be right by your side the whole time. He has had too much power over you and Alexandra for far too long. It's time to take that power away." She took his hands in both of hers then. "No matter how much you think it may shock them—I mean more than they've already been shocked—our family can only become stronger for it in the long run."

Alan's instinct had always been to protect both himself and his children from Brandon by never really referring to that ugly past. But now Alexandra was paying for it, and Nick and Hope were right: in order to lay Brandon to rest once and for all, they had to deal with the whole horrid truth.

Alan nodded. "You're right," he said, looking from Hope to Nick. "Both of you. We need to sit down as a family, minus Alexandra of course, and talk about this. How about tonight?"

"I'll let Alan-Michael and Faith know," Hope agreed.

"Just tell me what time, and I'll be there," Nick pledged.

"I'm going down to the D.A.'s office to pay a visit to this Robinson," Mike said. "We're going to have to hammer this out face-to-face."

"I can drive you, Mike," Nick offered.

"Thank you, Nick," Mike agreed. He looked to Alan and Hope. "We'll be back here later," he said. "I do want you to brace yourselves, though. If this Robinson is as bad as you say, I don't expect him to agree to anything today strictly as a matter of principle. He'll consider prosecuting Alexandra the opportunity of a lifetime for his career, but I've dealt with his kind before, and I believe I can make him see that treating her like a lamb being led to slaughter will ultimately be to his detriment as well as hers. The court of public opinion is very powerful, and Alexandra has a lot of friends and a lot of clout in this town. She undoubtedly has more of both than Robinson does. Getting him to see that attacking her in her condition will prove more deleterious than helpful to his career is the key."

"Would it be helpful if we could convince Roger not to continue calling for Alexandra's head on a platter for this?" Hope asked then.

"It certainly wouldn't hurt," Mike said before he and Nick left.

Dr. Braddock came out then. "Mr. Spaulding," he greeted Alan, "your sister would like to see you."

Hope gave Alan's shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "You go and talk to Alexandra," she said. "There's someone I need to talk to right now as well."

* * *

_April 12, 1995, 9:54_ _AM—Cedars Hospital ICU, Holly's Room_

Holly had just been taken down for her tests, and before Blake could say anything to Roger, Hope knocked on the door to the room, which was ajar. "Hi, Hope," Blake greeted her.

"Hello, Blake, Roger," Hope greeted them. "Where's Holly?"

"They took her down for some tests," Blake replied. "Come on in."

"Thank you," Hope said.

"Ross told me about last night, you coming down to see him, even with everything going on with Alexandra, to convey your apologies for what happened to my mother," Blake said. "That means a lot, Hope."

Roger's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but when he thought about it, it really didn't surprise him that Hope had apologized for Alexandra. Hope, being a Bauer by birth, did have empathy for others. Roger highly doubted that Alexandra would ever apologize for herself, not that he had any intention of letting her within 500 yards of Holly ever again.

Hope then looked at Roger. "My father is here. He's representing Alexandra legally," she said.

Mike Bauer. There was a blast from the past—a highly unpleasant blast from the past, causing Roger's heart and spirits to plummet as memories of an ugly, painful trial, an even uglier, even more painful chase through a jungle in the Dominican Republic, and the fact that he was the one who had set both of those events in motion by being so out of control that he had very badly and very directly hurt Holly surfaced reflexively. He felt bile rising in his throat and swallowed hard to force it back down. _It was a long time ago, _he told himself.

But his train of thought would not be silenced. _What happened to Holly over the last couple of days may not be solely and directly your fault, but everything that happened back then certainly was. And you know damn well that Mike Bauer will dredge all of that up and throw it in your face again to save Alexandra, except it won't just be you reliving it. He'lll make Holly and Chrissy relive it too. Not only that, but it'll be all over the news, and not just locally either. It'll be everywhere. _

Blake calling his name repeatedly snapped him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay, Dad?" she asked worriedly. Even Hope looked concerned for him.

Roger lifted one corner of his mouth in an attempt at a smile, but it was more a grimace. "Fine," he said shortly. "So, Mike is back in town."

"Yes, he is," Hope replied evenly. She had been there during that entire nightmarish mess decades ago, and she had the feeling that the mere mention of her father's name had brought all of those memories rushing back to Roger now. "He's already been here at Cedars, talking to Alexandra, and to Dr. Braddock, and he's down at the D.A.'s office now. And having seen Alexandra, and having talked to Dr. Braddock, he has seen for himself how truly sick and how completely undone Alexandra is, which has only made him even more determined to keep her out of jail than he was when he arrived."

That was it, then. Mike Bauer was a bulldog in the courtroom, and he would do whatever it took to keep Alexandra from going to jail, probably even secretly rejoicing that the best way to do that was to dredge up all of Roger's many sins of the past, not just against Alexandra but against as many people in the free world as they could line up to testify, and Roger knew that Ed Bauer and Jenna Bradshaw Cooper would be at the top of that list, although admittedly, Jenna would be spilling all the details about how he, with her help, had taken over Spaulding Enterprises while Alex was out of the country and Alan was in prison. But for maximum effectiveness, Mike would introduce into the record what Roger had done to Holly years ago. Roger knew that Holly wouldn't testify against him. At least, she wouldn't willingly testify against him; he wouldn't put it past Mike to call her as a hostile witness, in which case not only would she be forced to relive the worst and most traumatic events in her life, events that he precipitated, but she would also have to relive the nightmare of her kidnapping and imprisonment by Alexandra and having to break out of the wine cellar and crawling through that dark, narrow, dirty tunnel. It had hurt Roger to hear her tell it to the police earlier. He didn't think he could handle sitting through it in open court, and especially not after being forced to rehash again how cruelly and contemptibly he had hurt her all those years ago.

He wanted Alexandra to pay for what she had done to Holly…but he would not, under any circumstances, make Holly go back and relive the most devastatingly painful moments of her life in order to do it.

"My father and Alan… They were planning to bury you under the sins of your past if you pushed the legal system at Alexandra," Hope continued. "But things have come to light since that initial plan, and all they want to do now is establish that there were years and years of psychological abuse and pain, things that you had no part in and that started long before any of us had ever even heard of you, Roger, that pushed Alexandra to this point.

"If you make trouble for Alexandra, then I can't promise you that Alan won't come after you full throttle, and I think that we all know enough from the past to know that if he does come after you, it's going to get very ugly. And I don't know about you, but my family and I have more than enough to deal with as it is without starting another battle in this ongoing war between our family and yours."

"What are you really saying here, Hope?" Roger asked.

"If you try to move past this—and I know it's not an easy thing I'm asking, not by any means—but if you try to move past this **without **taking a pound of flesh from Alexandra, then this can stop before it starts."

Neither Roger nor Blake said anything, but Blake looked at her father. Roger was very clearly being offered a deal here: let the psychiatrists deal with Alexandra, don't take her to court, and we won't force Holly to relive the worst moments of her life…moments that you were solely responsible for. That was the upshot here, because while Blake didn't doubt that every wrong Roger had ever committed against Alexandra would be officially entered into the court record, and she could very easily see Ed testifying against Roger about every sin Roger had ever committed against the entire Bauer family, they would most definitely use the most agonizing part of her parents' past, which, by some fabulous miracle, they had somehow managed to forgive and move beyond to the life they had now, to exonerate Alexandra while tormenting Roger and Holly both by making them relive it yet again. And Blake didn't want that for either of her parents.

"You know, Roger," Hope said then, "you were the one who told Alexandra that Mindy changed Nick's DNA test, do you remember that?" Roger nodded mutely. "The fact that you were the one who did that shows that no matter what other reasons you may have had for doing it, you had enough empathy for her to let her know that she had another child in this world after all. For everyone's sake, please try to remember that empathy now, and end this war before a new battle starts raging, because if it does, everybody will lose." She looked to Blake then. "Tell Holly I hope she's feeling better, and that I'll try to stop back by later to see her." Then Hope left.

Roger sank down in the chair beside the bed and pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead. He didn't know how long he stayed like that before he heard Holly asking worriedly, "Roger? What's the matter?" He lifted his head to see Lillian pushing Holly in a wheelchair across the room. He didn't answer, so Holly looked to Blake. "Blake? What happened while I was gone?"

"Hope was here," Blake replied. "Her father's in town…to represent Alexandra."

Holly instantly understood. She got out of the wheelchair, silencing Lillian's protests with a curt, "I'm done with the IVs, my fever's gone, I'm fine, Lillian, really. I can certainly walk!" and sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brace her hands on Roger's shoulders.

After Blake shooed Lillian out of the room and closed the door, Roger looked at Holly. "I want to strike back at her," he admitted in a low voice, not meeting her eyes. "And at the police. She tried to kill you, insane or not. And I feel like the police didn't do enough to find you, that they didn't care about finding you because of what they think of me. I want to hurt them the way they hurt you, and the way they hurt me, Holly."

But what he said next floored both Holly and Blake. He lifted his head, looked into Holly's eyes, and in a voice barely above a whisper, he continued, "But I don't **want **to want to hurt them, because that'll just keep this war going, and they'll bring up what I did to you years ago, and I don't want to make you relive that again. **I **don't want to relive it again." The look in his eyes grew forlorn then. "I don't **want** to want to go after them," he said. "But I don't know if I'm strong enough not to."

Blake had never been prouder of her father than she was in that moment. Not to retaliate against at least Alexandra, especially after what she had done to Holly, was going against his instincts. She couldn't blame him for not wanting to relive the ugliest chapter of his past, and of course he loved Holly enough to not want to make her relive it either. But Blake suspected that what Hope had said about ending the war between the Thorpes and the Spauldings also had something to do with Roger's decision. He didn't want Alexandra to get away with anything, and he had never liked the police, but he didn't want to start a new battle. This one had taken too much out of him, out of their whole family, and all right, yes, Blake could admit that since Alex had cracked up, this battle had taken too much out of the Spauldings too. But at the moment, all Blake cared about was her own family, her parents…and the fact that her father was trying to find the strength to let the hostilities between their families subside instead of amping them up again.

Part of Holly was amazed. Honestly, she had expected Roger to want retribution against at least Alexandra, insane or not, and knowing him the way she did, the fact that he was angry at the police for what he perceived as their insufficiency in working to find her (she would have to ask Ed if the police really were lacking in their investigation; Blake wouldn't be any more objective than Roger, and she didn't want to put Ross in a position of being at odds with Blake over whether or not the police had truly done enough to find her, but Ed would be objective, even with his great-niece on the force, and she trusted his opinion) didn't come as a surprise, either.

But the old Roger would have gone scorched earth on all of them immediately and in a big way and not even considered the consequences of his actions until much, much later, if at all.

And the man that Roger was now had just confessed that even though he wanted to retaliate against them all, he didn't **want** to want to retaliate.

So the bigger part of Holly was not surprised, but was, in fact, gratified. This was the man Holly had always known Roger could be deep down…the man that Ed and Alexandra and Alan and Nick and Fletcher and an endless list of others refused to believe could ever exist. She knew how very hard this was for him, both leaving Alexandra to the psychiatrists and not attacking those he felt had wronged her, had wronged both of them. But he didn't want to make things worse than they already were by exacting revenge, which was a huge change from the old Roger. She had known that he was far different than he used to be, but this was proof positive of just how much he had changed, just how far he had traveled from the man that sought to control everyone and everything because he didn't know any other way to be, and she was so incredibly proud of him that she could burst.

Holly lightly squeezed his shoulders. "The fact that you feel this way, and that you were able to tell me about it instead of going off and getting some form of payback, says to me that you **are **strong enough," she said emphatically. "But when you don't feel strong enough, lean on me. We'll get through this together." She leaned in to hug him then, and whispered in his ear so that Blake couldn't hear, "And Dr. Janssen will help us both talk through all of this when we see her tomorrow."

Roger pulled back and looked at Holly, startled. With everything that had happened in the past two days, he had forgotten that tomorrow was Thursday, their usual session day with Dr. Janssen. Holly nodded imperceptibly.

In an effort to lighten the mood, and because quite frankly, she was anxious to hear her mother's take on the story, Blake spoke up then. "Dad told me about the first time you two met."

"Oh, he did?" Holly replied, looking at Roger.

"Yeah. And he said he noticed you right away. So what's your version of your first meeting, Mom? Did you notice Dad right away too?" Blake asked eagerly.

"It would have been impossible not to," Holly replied. She leaned back against the pillow then, and Roger settled himself next to her, just as eager as Blake to hear how she remembered that day. Holly looked at Blake and began, "The first time I met your father, I was nineteen…"

_**{{**Holly adjusted the books she was carrying as the elevator doors slid open on the reception area outside her father's private office. Having to pick him up from work was a major drag, but her mother wouldn't let her take the car that day otherwise, so she had agreed to pick him up at the end of the work day, even though she knew he'd unleash one of his favorite rants against her when he saw the stack of books she had taken out of the library. _ _Steeling herself for the inevitable confrontation with her father that was now only moments away, she stepped up to the reception desk. "Hello, Mildred," she greeted her father's secretary. "Is he in?"_

_"He has someone in there with him, Holly, but I think they're almost done. I'll let him know you're here," Mildred replied. _

_She buzzed Stanley then, and a few seconds later, his voice came over the intercom. "Yes, Mildred?"_

_"Your daughter is here, Mr. Norris," Mildred replied._

_ "Send her in," Stanley replied. _

_Mildred smiled at Holly. "You can go on in," she said. _

_"Thank you, Mildred," Holly replied. _ _She quietly opened the door and entered her father's office, wondering if he would call her out in front of whoever was in there with him. She closed the door behind her, then walked up to the side of her father's desk, stopping and waiting silently for him to acknowledge her. (Though they were all grown now, Holly and both of her brothers had had the old adage "Children should be seen and not heard" inculcated into them from birth onward.)_

_Her father, as usual, ignored her in favor of his work, his nose buried in a file. _ _But the man standing in front of her father's desk was looking at her. _ _So she looked back at him—and her first thought was that this man was the very personification of tall, dark, and handsome. He stood straight and tall, impeccably dressed in a navy blue pinstripe suit with a solid cerulean blue tie. He had dark, wavy hair, brown eyes that were studying her intently, and although she was extremely bad at guessing people's ages (she still cringed when she remembered guessing that the new French teacher her sophomore year of high school was 40, only to find out that he was 23 and fresh out of college), she could tell that he was older than her by at least a few years. _ _Her eyes met his, and he smiled brightly at her. She didn't return the smile, but she didn't look away from him either. He had the kind of smile that reached his eyes and lit up his whole face, which made his already handsome features even more becoming._

_Her father finally looked up from his file, so she quickly shifted her gaze from the handsome stranger to her father. "More books?" Stanley Norris asked with a frown. _

_"Yes," she replied simply. _

_"All dead poets, I suppose," Stanley said mockingly._

_"They're the best kind," she said._

_"Don't get fresh with me," Stanley warned sternly._

_"I'm sorry, Dad," she replied contritely. _

_"Keys," Stanley said, holding out his hand for them. "I'll drive home."_

_She shifted her books to her other arm to retrieve the car keys from her purse, her father impatiently goading her all the while to hurry up, he was ready to leave, why did she have to waste his valuable time by not being ready to hop to when he said so, and she noticed over her father's shoulder that the handsome stranger was still watching her, only now he had tilted his head. _ _She kept her eyes on him, watching as he tilted his head further. What was he doing, she wondered. She felt a spark of electricity in the pit of her stomach when she saw his eyes very clearly travel down and then up her legs. Was he checking her out? She was not the kind of girl that guys checked out. The boys—she couldn't think of them as anything else, considering how sophomoric and asinine most of them generally behaved—of Springfield University had sized her up on the first day of classes: quiet bookworm, not a party girl, next contestant, please. _

_He was still looking. Was he trying to look up her miniskirt? Terrific, the first time a good-looking guy gave her a second look, and he was probably just trying to look up her skirt. _

_Unless he was trying to see the authors of the books she was carrying. Was that even a possibility? Most of the other English majors were girls. This man obviously worked for her father, so he had to have majored in business, or marketing, or economics, or possibly accounting, and in her experience, limited though it admittedly was, men with a head for either business or math had zero interest in the arts and humanities in general and literature in particular. _ _Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome was certainly interested in something about her. She just didn't know what that something was: her legs, what was under her skirt, or her books. _

_"Roger," her father said then, turning back to face Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome now. _ _Roger, she repeated silently. His name is Roger. _

_Roger quickly snapped his head upright, but her father had totally missed the fact that he'd been checking her out. She looked at Roger then, feeling a smirk tug at her lips, and she tried to hide it, but judging by the look that flashed in Roger's eyes for a second, she wasn't entirely successful. Of course, her father missed her smirk too._ _"Yes, Mr. Norris," Roger replied. "I was just wondering who the lovely young lady is."_

_"Oh, that's just my daughter, Holly. She'll be a sophomore at Springfield University this fall. Holly, this is Roger Thorpe, my top junior executive," Stanley said, perfunctorily performing the introductions. "Now, about the meeting…." _

_Stanley droned on about some meeting, but Holly was no longer paying attention. She quickly crept forward, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from her father's desk. Something about Roger Thorpe set him apart from every other male in her age range. She couldn't have explained what it was, except to say that it wasn't only because she thought he was the handsomest man she'd ever seen (well, the handsomest man who wasn't Cary Grant or Gary Cooper). Something about her had caught his attention, and she wanted to know what that something was, and she also wanted to let him know that while she wasn't a prude, she wasn't a woman of loose morals, either. She began to write._

_"Dear Mr. Thorpe,_

_ If you were trying to look up my skirt, I'm not that kind of girl. _

_If you were ogling my legs, you could have been a bit more subtle about it._

_If you were trying to read the authors of the books I'm carrying, they are as follows:_

_Robert Browning_

_Algernon Swinburne_

_Walt Whitman_

_Ralph Waldo Emerson_

_So, which are you: a voracious reader, a girl watcher, or just another guy on the make?_

_And didn't anyone ever tell you it's impolite to stare?_

_ Holly Norris"_

_She had just finished writing a few seconds before Stanley said, "Holly, we're leaving. Now. Thorpe, tomorrow morning, 7:00 AM sharp."_

_"I'll be here," Roger said. Stanley was already headed for the door. Roger smiled at Holly again and said, "It was nice meeting you, Holly."_

_"It was nice to meet you too, Roger," Holly replied. She stuck out her hand, and when he took it in his to shake it, she felt that spark of electricity in her stomach again as she pressed the note into his hand._

_"Holly, what are you still doing over there?" her father demanded from the now-open door._

_"Nothing, Dad," Holly replied. She walked quickly across her father's office to join him at the door, glancing back over her shoulder to see Roger reading her note with a big grin on his face. And it wasn't the kind of grin that was meant to make fun of her. It was the kind of grin that said that he was impressed that she called him out. _

_He looked up, still grinning at her, and she turned her head so that he could see that she was looking right at him and smiled her most dazzling smile at him. She held his gaze for a few seconds more, and then she was out the door with her father. _

_On the ride home,_ s_he tuned out her father's harangue about wasting so much time with her nose in books instead of being out in the real world actually living (it was nothing she hadn't heard thousands of times before, anyway) and thought about Roger Thorpe. The first two lines of a poem by Walt Whitman came to mind:_

_"Are you the new person drawn toward me?_

_To begin with, take warning—I am surely far different from what you suppose;"_

_She had no idea which of the three things he was: a voracious reader, a girl watcher, or just another guy on the make. If he was just another guy on the make, he would be just another disappointment. If he was a girl watcher, at least she had finally graduated to being a girl that some guy would watch. If he was a voracious reader, however unlikely that possibility may be, she might have finally found someone she could discuss books with outside of her study group, which would be wonderful._

_For all that she didn't know about Roger Thorpe, though, there was one thing she did know: if picking up her father at his office meant seeing Roger Thorpe, she would gladly subject herself to her father's tirades all summer long, because something about Roger intrigued her and drew her, and if she had the chance, she'd like to get to know him. _

_Of course, bearing in mind Walt Whitman's sage words, Roger probably was far different from what she supposed. But then, she was probably far different from what he supposed. _

_But maybe they could find out—if he wasn't only trying to look up her skirt.**}}**_

"I wasn't trying to look up your skirt," Roger insisted.

"But you **were** looking at my legs," Holly said.

"Well, yeah," Roger said. "I was too far away to get a look at the books you were carrying to see who wrote them, which is the main thing I was trying to see."

"Which is why the next time I saw you, you referred to those poets as 'Robert Browning and…and the rest of those guys,'" Holly said dryly, but her eyes were sparkling.

"I remembered Robert Browning," Roger pointed out.

"Probably because I listed him first," Holly said.

"Which you no doubt did because he's your favorite," Roger replied. "But that first day I saw you, of course I was going to check out your legs. You were wearing that yellow miniskirt, so your legs were in full view, and they were magnificent. They still are."

"You remember what I was wearing that day?" Holly asked.

"Yellow miniskirt, white blouse, brown shoes with little silver buckles, and you had a yellow headband in your hair," Roger replied.

"You remember what I was wearing that day," Holly said, visibly touched. Roger smiled in reply, the first genuine smile Blake had seen on his face in two days. "You're so sweet," Holly said, reaching for him.

The kiss she gave him, and the way he responded, was so ardent that even Blake started to feel a bit uncomfortable. Maybe Ross had a point after all, she mused. Before things got any more heated, Blake cleared her throat, and when Roger and Holly stopped kissing and turned to look at her, she held up the black leather overnight bag she had brought with her. "I brought you a change of clothes and your shaving kit, Dad," she said, "in case you wanted to freshen up."

Roger scratched his chin. He definitely needed a shave, and a shower too. "All right," he agreed.

Blake handed him the overnight bag. "The locker room downstairs," she said. "I know for a fact that Maureen already made the arrangements." Roger nodded, hugged Blake, quickly kissed Holly, and then left the room.

After he was gone, Blake looked at her mother and said, "Wow. He doesn't want to get revenge. Or he doesn't **want** to want to get revenge. That's huge!"

Holly smiled proudly as she sat back against the pillow. "I always knew he had it in him," she said.

"You're the one who brought it out of him," Blake said as she took the seat beside Holly's bed again.

"I'll take credit for being part of the reason," Holly said, "but he did **a lot** of hard work to get to this point, and that was all him." Her smile faded. "Neither your father nor I had any kind of healthy relationship with our own parents, our fathers especially, and that's a difficult thing for a child to accept, even after they're grown. Knowing that no matter what you do, no matter what you may achieve, no matter what anyone else may think of you, you will never have your father's approval…" She trailed off. "It's something you learn to live with, but it's a dull ache that never completely goes away. Your father has lived with that ache his entire life. Everything he didn't get from Adam Thorpe…and everything he **did**…made it hard for him to trust anyone else, or to even trust himself. But he's a far better man than Adam ever was, and he's learning to believe that about himself, finally."

"When he was here for my wedding, Grandpa would barely even look at Dad, let alone talk to him," Blake recalled.

"Your grandfather has always been disappointed in your father, and nothing is ever going to change that," Holly said sadly.

"What about you and your father?" Blake asked.

"I knew from a very early age that I was not the daughter he wanted," Holly replied. "By the time I was a teenager, I figured out that he was afraid I'd get to be smarter than he was. He wasn't much of a father to any of us, and I think what frustrated him the most about me is that I only challenged his authority on the things that were important to me…which, back then, were mostly literature and education. He wanted an image-conscious socialite for a daughter. I wanted a bachelor's degree and spent all my free time devouring books and writing in diaries and journals. He couldn't very well refuse to send me to college, but he certainly never did anything to encourage my studies either. Actually, he never did anything to encourage me. The only thing he ever made time to do with me was to lecture me, or to yell at me for not being the daughter he wanted me to be. So by the time I was in junior high school, I had accepted that I could never please him and concentrated on going about my own life."

"He encouraged you to date Dad, though," Blake said.

"At first, yes," Holly said, "but that was only to get me out of his hair. He didn't want to have to try to pencil in time to spend with me, and he was always after me to get my nose out of the books and spend some time in the real world." She smiled fondly. "Of course, that ended up backfiring on him in a big way when I fell head over heels for your father. None of us were expecting that, not even me."

Blake settled back in her chair. "Speaking of you and Dad, and falling in love, I've always had a theory about you two…well, at least since we all ended up back here in Springfield."

"And what is this theory?" Holly asked.

"I think that when the two of you were young, you fell madly in love with each other, and that was it for both of you. You both tried to make it work with other people in the years and decades to follow, but it never did. And it never did because neither of you could give your heart to any of those others. They weren't your hearts to give. You had Dad's heart all along, and he had yours all along," Blake said. "After what Dad said last night, I **know** I'm right about that being the case for him. So now I want to know, is that the case for you too?"

"What did he say last night?" Holly wanted to know.

"Uh uh. You'll have to ask him," Blake said. "And right now, I'm asking you: have you always loved Dad, Mom?"

Holly looked Blake right in the eyes. "Yes, I have," she said. "There are things I regret, things we both regret, about the past, that we've had to forgive, and that we have put a lot of time and effort into moving beyond. But yes, underneath all the anger and hate I felt for all those years, and even when I thought he was dead, I still loved him. And when I finally realized that, and I admitted it to myself and to him, we were able to start over."

Blake smiled, but before she could say anything, a tap at the door got both her attention and Holly's. They looked to the door to see Mike Bauer standing in the doorway, holding a vase of yellow chrysanthemums. "Mike!" Holly exclaimed, surprised yet pleased to see him.

Mike smiled as he came in, setting the mums on the tray table and bending down to give Holly a careful hug. "Hello, Holly," he said. "I'm glad to see you're doing so well." He then turned to Blake, who had stood up, and they hugged. "Blake."

"Hi, Mike," Blake said as she hugged him back. "Did Elizabeth come with you?"

"Not this time," Mike replied as he released Blake. "And how is Ross? Is he taking good care of you?"

"The best," Blake said with a big grin.

"That's good," Mike said. "Otherwise, he'd have to answer to me." Mike turned back to look at Holly again then, his expression growing solemn. "I'm not sure if you've heard already, but I wanted to tell you that I'm here because Hope called me and asked me to represent Alexandra," he said.

Thanks to Hope, Blake and Roger already knew that Mike was representing Alexandra, but Holly didn't. Blake would have told her, but they didn't get to it before Mike arrived. "Can you tell us anything about the case, Mike?" Holly asked.

"Alexandra is very sick," he replied. "She has come completely unhinged."

"I knew that as soon as I saw the look in her eyes when I woke up and saw her standing over me," Holly said. She regarded Mike then. "I take it that because of her condition, you're trying to keep this out of court?"

"That's why I'm here in town," Mike replied bluntly. "I'm between rounds with A.D.A. Robinson right now."

"Robinson?" Blake asked disdainfully. "**That's** who got this case?"

"I haven't heard anything good about him yet," Mike said.

"And you won't hear anything good about him from me either," Blake replied.

"Won't hear anything good about who?" Roger asked from the doorway. They all turned to look at him as he entered, showered and shaved, but his eyes wary when he saw Mike Bauer there with his wife and daughter.

Mike looked at Roger dispassionately. Except for the gray hair, he looked exactly as Mike remembered, with one big difference: while he had looked at Mike warily, the only fire in Roger's eyes was the fire of love, and it was all directed at Holly, who was looking back at him with undisguised love shining in her eyes as well. The rage, the arrogance, the look of a cornered animal about to strike and draw blood wasn't there in Roger's eyes anymore.

"A.D.A. Robinson," Blake said.

Roger, aware of Robinson's reputation, snorted. "If he ever runs for D.A., I hope the voters are smart enough **not** to elect him," he said. He set the overnight bag containing his dirty clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed, then walked around to the opposite side of the bed from where Mike and Blake were standing to sit beside Holly. "How are you feeling?" he asked her.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "You look like you're feeling better too."

"You're safe and you're all right," he replied, putting his arm around her shoulders. "That's all I need."

Another knock came at the door; Michelle and Maureen had arrived, Michelle carrying a bouquet of dark pink gerbera daisies and an envelope. "Mike!" Maureen exclaimed, hurrying to give her a brother-in-law a hug.

"Maureen," he greeted her. He looked at Michelle. "And this can't be little Michelle!" he said.

"I'm 13, Uncle Mike. Not so little anymore," Michelle replied.

"No, she's not," Maureen said somewhat ruefully, stroking Michelle's hair.

"I remember that feeling," Mike said sympathetically as Michelle handed Holly the flowers and card and then hugged her. "Is Ed around?"

"He's on his way down here, actually," Maureen replied. She looked at Holly. "You gave everyone quite a scare last night, Holly. We're all glad you're going to be all right."

"So am I," Holly replied. "And thank you for the flowers. All of you," she said, looking at Mike after squeezing Michelle's arm.

"You're really gonna be all right?" Michelle asked Holly.

"I'm really gonna be all right," Holly assured Michelle. "In fact, I'm hoping that your dad is going to spring me from this place soon. I'm ready to go home!" She looked at Roger with a smile, and he smiled back at her.

Ed came in then. "What is this, a party?" he said. When he and Mike saw each other, Ed went right to his brother and clapped him on the back. Mike returned the gesture.

Lillian stuck her head in the door then. "Maureen, you have a phone call. You can take it out here at the nurses' station," she said.

"Thank you, Lillian," Maureen replied. "Excuse me, everyone." Then she left to take her phone call.

"So, Ed, what's the good word?" Holly asked. "Please tell me there is one."

"There is," Ed said, smiling. "Your tests are all normal. You can go home after lunch."

Michelle cheered out loud. Blake grinned. Holly gently nudged Roger's arm with her elbow, and Roger looked at her, relieved.

"Give me 45 minutes," Blake said then. "I'll stock your fridge and bring you back some clothes, Mom."

"Thanks, honey," Holly said. She looked to Ed. "Will I be able to take a shower before I leave?"

"If you're sure you feel up to it," Ed replied.

"I feel up to it," Holly said. "Oh, and Blake! Could you do one more thing for me?"

"Name it," Blake said.

"Call that spa, the one I can never remember the name of, and book a full package for both of us one day next week," she said. "And start with facials and manicures!"

"You got it," Blake said. "I'll be back soon. Goodbye, everybody!"

They all called their goodbyes to Blake, and after she left, Roger said, "Counselor, may I have a word with you in private?"

Everyone, including Michelle, was surprised. "Let's step into the hall," Mike replied.

"Be right back," Roger told Holly before following Mike into the hall.

"What is this about, Roger?" Mike asked.

"You're Alexandra's attorney," Roger said.

"Yes," Mike said, meaning that Roger should continue.

"I don't know what kind of deal you might be trying to cut with the D.A.'s office, but I'm not going to go charging down there insisting that Alexandra be strung up by her thumbs," Roger informed him.

"You're not," Mike said.

"No, I'm not," Roger replied. "And since you're her attorney, I just thought you should know." Roger's face hardened then. "But know this as well: I'll leave Alexandra to the psychiatrists, but she'd better be in a mental hospital by the end of the week, and I'm going to do my best to get Holly a restraining order, because I don't want Alexandra anywhere near my wife ever again!" Roger turned on his heel then and walked back into Holly's room, leaving Mike alone in the hall.

Ed came out to join Mike a few seconds later. "What did Roger want?" Ed asked.

"To tell me that he's not pursuing legal action against Alexandra with the D.A.'s office as long as she's in a mental hospital by week's end," Mike said. Before Ed could fully absorb that, Mike continued, "Not that we're a couple of gossiping old hens, but you didn't think it worth mentioning to me sometime in the past few months that Holly married Roger Thorpe again?"

"Mike, it was just such a shock," Ed said.

"I saw her rings. I'm guessing that she wore the diamond-and-sapphire engagement ring for a while before the wedding?" Mike inquired.

Ed moved one shoulder in a half shrug. "She said that she and Roger were engaged to be engaged. I honestly never expected it to end up in marriage." Ed paused then, considering. "She's happy with him, though, Mike. I mean, she's happier than I've seen her in forever."

"She does look well, all things considered," Mike agreed. "And Roger is certainly different when it comes to Holly. He was downright gentle and solicitous with her, and when he looked at her, how he feels about her was written all over his face. I wasn't expecting that."

"Who among us that knows them, knows what happened back then, was?" Ed asked rhetorically. "Even so, it doesn't change his part in what's happened to Alexandra."

"No, it doesn't," Mike agreed. "But at least he's not going to go to the D.A. and launch a tirade about how Alexandra should spend the rest of her life rotting behind bars for what she did to Holly."

Hope approached them then. "Hello, Dad, hello, Uncle Ed," she greeted them, giving both men a peck on the cheek. "Dad, I called the house to check in, and Vera said that Jenna Bradshaw Cooper called and left a message, saying that she's willing to testify in Alexandra's favor."

"That's hardly surprising," Ed said. "Jenna knows how fond Henry is of Alexandra, and Jenna hates Roger."

"Well, I'm going back to see A.D.A. Robinson after lunch," Mike replied. He checked his watch. "I think I have enough time to pull together a list of witnesses to take him, to show him how many people are willing to testify as to Alexandra's state of mind."

"You can put our entire family, and Fletcher Reade, on that list," Hope said. "As well as Jenna."

"And me," Ed added. "And Dr. Braddock."

"Can you two hammer out this list without me?" Hope asked. "I missed Holly earlier, and I wanted to go in and see her for a few minutes."

"Sure, sweetheart," Mike said.

When Hope came in, Michelle saw her opportunity. She knew she had to get Mr. Thorpe alone to talk to him, but when everyone else left, she wasn't sure how to go about it, until her cousin Hope walked in.

"Holly, our entire family is so deeply sorry for what happened to you," Hope said. "We're all very glad that you're going to be all right, and we want you to know that Alexandra is going to get the help she needs."

"Thank you, Hope," Holly replied.

"Holly," Michelle interjected then, "could I bring you anything from the cafeteria, or a soda or a bottle of water or anything?"

"That's very nice of you, Michelle," Holly said. "Now that you mention it, would you happen to know if the cafeteria has that chocolate cream pie with the little chocolate shavings on top?"

"I'll go check," Michelle said with a bright smile. "Mr. Thorpe, would you come with me?"

Roger looked from Michelle to Holly. "Sure," he said. He kissed the top of Holly's head. "We'll be back in a few minutes," he said.

When they were out of earshot of Holly's room, Michelle said, "Mr. Thorpe, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yes, Michelle?" Roger asked.

Michelle took a deep breath to steady her sudden nerves. "You're a really good friend to my mom," she began. "You were really there for her when she and my dad separated a couple of years ago, the same way that Holly was there for me during that same time. And when you and Holly and I were all at Cliff House on the 4th of July, I could see that you loved her by the way you looked at her. And you and I have gotten to be friends too in the past couple of years. But I'm sure you remember what happened at Cliff House that night, after we set off the fireworks. That man, Mr. Davis, he came after me and Holly. He tried to hurt Holly, and he tried to hurt her because he was mad at you for something."

Michelle stopped walking, so Roger did too. "You saved us that night, Mr. Thorpe. And you saved my dad's life too. If you hadn't been there to pull him up over the railing…" She shook her head as if to rid her brain of that scary memory. "My point is that Mr. Davis went after Holly that night to hurt you. And my parents told me that Ms. Spaulding is very sick, and if she wasn't very sick, then she wouldn't have hurt Holly the way she did, but Ms. Spaulding **did **hurt Holly, and she did it to get back at you because you did things that made her angry at you.

"I know that you love Holly very much, Mr. Thorpe, and I know that she loves you very much, too. I was really happy for both of you when Mom came home from her business meeting at Towers that night and told us that you and Holly were there with Blake and Ross celebrating your wedding. And you're my friend, like I said. But Holly's my friend too, and she's done a lot to look out for me and help me out, so I'm just trying to return the favor now.

"I don't know if there are any other people in your past that you've done things to to make them mad at you, but I do know that Holly has already had two people come after her as a way of getting back at you, and she almost got hurt the first time, and she **did** get hurt the second time. And she doesn't deserve that, Mr. Thorpe. So I guess what I'm really saying is that if there's anybody else you can think of that you've made angry, you need to make amends somehow and square things with them so that nothing like this happens to Holly ever again, because twice is two times too many." She searched Roger's face then. "You're not mad at me for saying all this, are you?" she asked anxiously.

"No, Michelle, I'm not mad," Roger assured her. "In fact, I think Holly is very lucky to have you for a friend, to have you looking out for her. And you are very much your mother's daughter, and believe me, that's a very good thing."

Michelle breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's go see if they have that chocolate cream pie for Holly now," she said.

Roger followed Michelle to the cafeteria, but as he did, his thoughts were churning, his insides awash in turmoil. Michelle was right, even at the tender age of 13. Whatever extenuating circumstances there may have been, Holly **had **been in serious danger twice now because of things Roger had done in the past. He didn't even want to think about all the people he had, as Michelle put it, done things to to make them angry…all the people who could potentially try to get back at him by doing something to Holly.

Everyone had a breaking point. He could do everything in his power to keep anything like this from ever happening to Holly again, but he couldn't positively guarantee that someone else with an axe to grind against him would never come after her. He hadn't been able to stop Davis, or Alexandra. Even doing everything he possibly could, he couldn't promise Holly that she'd never have somebody from his past popping up and trying to hurt him by doing something to try and hurt her.

She had assured him repeatedly that she didn't blame him and she wasn't going to leave him…this time.

But if anything like this ever happened again, would that be the last straw, the thing that drove her away from him for good?


	17. Cling and Clatter

_**Thanks to Mendys. I wouldn't have finished this chapter and gotten it posted tonight if not for your help. **_

_April 12, 1995, 11: 26 AM—Cedars Hospital ICU, Holly's Room _

When Ed returned to Holly's room, he was surprised to find her there alone. "What, the party broke up?" he asked.

"Momentarily," she said. "Michelle and Roger went on a search for chocolate cream pie in the cafeteria. They'll be right back." She paused for a moment, looking at Ed. "Actually, while I have you alone, there's something I wanted to ask you."

"Okay," Ed said.

"As far as you know, were the police lacking in any way in their investigation of my disappearance, or did they really try their best?" she asked.

"They really tried their best," Ed said. "Faith was furious that she was kept from kicking down every door in town, including the mansion, to find you, but with Alexandra being a suspect…" He trailed off, not wanting to upset Holly by mentioning Alex now. "Last night, Roger accused her of knowing exactly where you were the whole time."

Holly cringed at that. "I'm not surprised, but that was out of line. Nobody knew where I was except for me and Alexandra."

"Actually, I don't blame Roger for running roughshod over the police," Ed replied, "because if it was Maureen, I would probably do the same thing, but the police did everything they could. And Faith was the first one to figure out where you were, but you fell into the library before they could execute the search warrant."

She nodded. "I appreciate you telling me this, Ed." He looked away then, and she sensed something else. "What?" she asked.

He frowned slightly, seeming to be considering something. "I was just debating about whether or not to tell you something," he said, looking back at her.

"Forget the debate and just tell me," she said.

"Well, he wasn't first on the list of suspects by any means, but eventually the police did wonder if Roger had anything to do with you going missing," Ed admitted.

"Of course they did," Holly said, not sure how angry she should be about that. Yes, the husband is almost always a prime suspect when something happens to the wife, but it wasn't like they were the only people in Springfield with a past. All right, nobody else's past was quite as horrific as theirs was, but she just hoped that when the police questioned Roger, they were at least tactful about it. "Do you know how bad it was when they questioned him?"

"They didn't question him," Ed told her.

"They didn't? Why not?"

"Because they had it on very good authority that Roger had absolutely nothing to do with your disappearance, that he wouldn't do anything like that to you ever again," Ed replied.

"Who told them that?" Holly wondered. If they didn't question Roger… They wouldn't exactly have believed Blake to be an unbiased observer. Ross, perhaps?

"I did," Ed admitted.

"You," Holly said, shocked.

Ed shrugged. "I don't understand how he makes you so happy, Holly, but I can see that he does," he said. "I went down to the police station to see if I could be of any help, because not being able to do anything to help you was really getting to me, and while I was there, Detective Cutter brought up Roger, wondering if…well, if this was like Santo Domingo. And I told him no, there's no way Roger would do that to you again."

"He wouldn't," Holly said. "He won't."

"I believe you," Ed replied. "But…"

He didn't have to say it. She knew what the rest of that sentence was: _I still can't trust him. _And she understood why that was so, she really did. Roger had hurt Ed terribly by going after most of his family; the only one he didn't do something to directly was Ed's mother Bert. But Mike, Bill, Rita Stapleton, since Ed was married to her at the time, even Hope and her children because of Roger's involvement in Alan's prison stay, had all been hurt somehow by Roger, not to mention when Roger was dating Ed's sister Hillary, that bugged the hell out of Ed since he took that as yet another way Roger could stick it to him, and all of that had hurt Ed deeply, on top of Ed's battles with Roger back then over Holly and Blake. She saw Ed's point of view, and knew that he would never be able to forget, or truly forgive, most of it, and certainly not to the point where he would ever trust Roger.

But Ed trusted **her**, trusted her judgment, trusted that she really did know what she was doing this time around, and that was enough. For the first time since that day at Company that they had spoken after she got back from her honeymoon, Holly felt like she had her good friend Ed back.

"Thank you," she said simply.

"You're welcome," he replied just as simply.

"And you did plenty to help me," she said. "I probably wouldn't be awake right now and about ready to get out of here if it wasn't for you."

"You've waited a long time to be this happy. You deserve to enjoy it for a long time to come," Ed replied, leaning down to give her a hug.

She hugged him back. "How about lunch one day next week?" she asked as she let him go.

"I'd like that," Ed said with a smile.

"I'll call you this weekend. Clear a lunch hour," she said, smiling back at him.

"I will," he promised. "And I'll be back with your discharge papers around one."

Roger and Michelle returned then with the chocolate cream pie, and Ed had rounds to make, so he left. Then Blake came in a few minutes later with lunch from Company and clothes for Holly to wear home, and Tangie came in right on Blake's heels with more flowers, and a card signed by most of the staff at the _Journal, _including Fletcher, along with a declaration of happiness that she was going to be all right.

Maureen collected Michelle as Tangie was saying her goodbyes, and Blake cleaned up the lunch detritus and hugged both Holly and Roger goodbye, promising to call later that night after she had finished making the arrangements for the spa day Holly wanted them to have next week to give her the details.

And through all of this, Roger had been civil to Ed, who returned the favor; amiable to Tangie, Michelle, and Maureen; had contributed to the lunch conversation, but left it mostly up to Holly and Blake; and sat silently after they finished eating except to acknowledge Blake's goodbye to him.

Holly saw the shadows in his eyes and knew that something was bothering him, but she wasn't entirely certain what it was, and since he wasn't volunteering the information, Holly knew that she would have to bring it up first. A year and two months of therapy had taught them both the value and importance of talking things out, and whatever was troubling Roger, she wanted to know so that she could help him deal with it.

Roger was lost in thought. "Roger?" Holly said. "Roger!" He snapped to attention then, looking over at her. "I'm going to take a shower, and Ed said earlier that he'd be here with my discharge papers at 1:00, and then we can finally go home."

"Okay, I'll wait here for you," he replied.

_ Oh yes_, Holly thought as she headed downstairs to the locker room, _we're definitely going to have a talk when we get home._

* * *

_April 12, 1995, 1:29 PM—Holly and Roger's House_

The ride home from Cedars had been mostly silent. By the time they were walking through the front door, Holly decided that enough was enough. They had to talk about whatever was obviously bothering Roger. But before she could broach the subject, he asked her, "Do you want anything to drink?"

"A bottle of water would be great, thank you," Holly replied as she sat down on the couch.

When Roger opened the refrigerator door, he burst out laughing, a genuine laugh, which Holly took as a good sign. The fact that he could laugh, really laugh, meant that whatever it was that was bothering him hadn't taken over his entire soul. "What's so funny?" she asked, amused.

Roger pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and reminded her, "Chrissy said she was going to stock the fridge for us."

"And?" Holly asked.

"We have bottled water, three kinds of soda, orange juice, grapefruit juice, cranberry juice, tomato juice, milk, bottled iced tea, and two gallons of sports drink," Roger reported.

"Only Blake," Holly said with a smile, accepting the bottle of water from Roger. She patted the sofa cushion next to her. "Sit with me," she said. Roger sat down. After Holly had taken a drink of water, she said, "Okay. We have a session with Dr. Janssen tomorrow, but I would really rather not wait until then to find out what's bothering you." She set the bottle of water on the end table and took his hands in hers. "What's wrong, Roger? Is it about Alexandra? I know how hard it is for you that she's not going to trial for what she did..."

"It is hard," Roger admitted, "but I know I did the right thing there. I don't want to make you relive anything horrible, and selfishly, I really didn't want to go back there either."

"It's not selfish," Holly assured him. "We have put a lot of time and effort into dealing with all of that and moving forward with our lives and our future." Roger looked down at the floor then. "Tell me," she coaxed gently. "Tell me what's put that fear and insecurity in your eyes." She rubbed his back soothingly. "You and I have had to work so very hard—harder than most people—at trusting each other, but whatever it is that's got you so scared and so insecure, you know you can tell me and I won't run screaming from the room, no matter what it is."

"I **do** trust you, Holly," Roger insisted, looking at her now. "It's my past that I don't trust. There are so many things that I regret, so many things that I never would have done if I had had **any **idea then that I would have a future with you."

"None of that matters to me, Roger," she said firmly. "I was around for everything that happened in the five years between when we both wound up back in Springfield and when we got back together, and you and I have made our peace with what we needed to make peace with from that era, and from the one before. Whatever you did, or tried to do, to Alexandra, or Alan, or anyone else, then or all those years you were with the Agency, has no bearing at all on our future."

"You say that now, but how do you know that something won't happen someday that will change your mind about that, that will change your mind about me?" He looked at her sadly. "This is the second time that someone has come after you to get back at me, and as much as I want to promise you that nothing like this will ever happen again, I can't, because I don't know that somebody else who wants to punish me for something I did to them in the past won't come after you again." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "I never knew I could be this insecure until you were kidnapped, and I realized that anybody with an axe to grind against me could take revenge by targeting you."

He looked at her with haunted eyes. "Losing you is my biggest fear. I know that you love me. I know that you're not going to leave me over **this**. But I also know that something could happen someday that makes you change your mind. I'm afraid that there's going to come a day when something happens that's just the last straw for you, and you'll go back to hating me, and then I will lose you, because there's always a last straw, Holly. You don't know what yours is yet, but there'll be one."

"Not this time," Holly said adamantly. "The life we have together is the life I have always wanted, and nothing and no one is ever going to make me change my mind about that, or about you." Her mind was racing now. She could tell by the dejected set of Roger's shoulders, the haunted, frightened look in his eyes, that her words now weren't going to convince him.

And then she knew how she would assure him that nothing and no one were ever going to make her want to leave him. She grabbed his hand, stood up, and pulled him to his feet. "Come with me. There's something you need to see."

Roger let Holly pull him into their bedroom. He watched as she went to her bureau, opened the bottom drawer, rummaged around, and then stood up, holding a small book in her hands and nudging the drawer closed with her foot. She leafed through the book, scanning the pages as she crossed the room to sit down on the edge of her side of the bed. She stopped leafing through the book and nodded at him to sit beside her. When he did, he saw that the book was one of Holly's diaries. She handed him the book. "Read this, all of it, starting here," she said, pointing out where she wanted him to begin. "Out loud."

Roger looked down at the page covered with Holly's handwriting. The diary entry was dated February 14, 1992…the night Daniel St. John tried to kill them at the Bauer cabin.

He began to read her words aloud.

_"'Am I really bouncing around, doing whatever Roger tells me __**not**__ to? 'Come home safe.' I wanted to rip the phone out of the wall when he said that. 'Come home safe.' I think the only time I thought I __**could**__ have a home, that I __**could**__ be safe, was with Roger, the first time, before any of the nightmare started. I will hate him till I die for making a lie out of 'Come home safe.' _

_ "'That's not true. Maybe, deep down, I think the only place I __**can**__ come home safely is to Roger. No place was ever home after him…and he feels it too. In spite of everything, he still wants me. Even knowing how __**I **__feel, he still wants me. And I can't stop thinking about him.'"_

Roger looked up from the book in astonishment to find Holly gazing at him intently. "That's what I wrote about you that set Daniel off that night. That's **really** why I didn't want to marry him: because even then, on some level, I knew that what I really wanted was to be with you."

She took the book from him, closed it, and set it on her nightstand, then turned back to him. "Before Mike got there this morning, when Blake and I were talking, she said that she's always had a theory about you and me, and she said that what you said last night proved that she was right about you. But when I asked her what you said, she told me I had to ask you. So I'm asking: even when we hated each other, even when we did everything we possibly could to hurt each other in the cruelest ways we knew, underneath all the pain and rage, did you still love me?"

"Yes," Roger replied instantly. "I didn't know how to love you, not the way you deserved to be loved. And I couldn't believe that you loved me for **me, **because no one else ever did, until you. But I have always been in love with you, Holly. Though I didn't know how to show it then, I have always **felt** love for you, even when I was at my most evil and despicable, and even when I lashed out at you."

"That's half of Blake's theory," Holly replied. "Blake believes that you've always loved me, and that's why you could never make it work with anyone else. You couldn't give your heart to anyone else because you gave it to me when we were young, and I've had it all along."

"She's right," Roger said. "And I know that's not the case with you—"

"But it is," Holly interrupted. Looking deeply into his eyes, she repeated determinedly as she brushed her hand across the back of his head, "**It is**."

Roger was gobsmacked. His eyes were so wide with shock, they were as big as dinner plates. He had always known that he loved Holly. Now she was telling him that some part of her had always loved him too. He had never considered that to be even a possibility. But she was very firmly asserting that it was not just a possibility, it was a fact. "You…" he started, but he was too astonished to finish asking the question.

Holly scooted closer to him, resting one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head. "I fell in love with you when I was nineteen years old, and I have been in love with you ever since," she said, looking not just into his eyes, but into his soul. "I told Blake that, but she already knew it. And I told Nick and Fletcher that last year when they were attacking you, and attacking me for being with you. But I never told **you** that, and I should have. You've said before, on more than one occasion, that you always loved me, which Blake also knew. I knew it too. But I didn't really understand how that could be until I realized that I've loved you all along too. Even when I hated you, even when I thought you were dead, the love was still there, buried under all the hate and all the anger for all those years."

"You…you really never stopped loving me?" Roger finally asked, amazed.

Holly inclined her head toward the diary on the nightstand. "Presenting Exhibit A," she said. "I filled an entire diary after Acapulco, and another one after the 4th of July at Cliff House. For those almost five years that we were both back here and circling each other, especially when we would get close like in Acapulco, and after Daniel, and that 4th of July, I would fight with myself so much and so hard, because my head insisted that I had to hate you, but my heart would always remind me after those occasions of closeness that I still loved you." She smiled at him ruefully. "Why do you think I couldn't stay away from you? No matter how many times I insisted that I hated you, that you had ruined my life, that I didn't want anything to do with you, I was drawn to you, because I still loved you. And we would get close, and then I would panic, because my head kept insisting that I should hate you because it's what was expected, and so I would run like hell and ignore my true feelings.

"But logic only takes you so far," she continued. "It's true what they say about life-and-death situations making you realize what's important and what isn't, because when it looked like you could die, all of the 'should's and 'it's what's expected's in my head about you ceased to matter. The **only** thing that mattered was that this time, you might have really been gone forever…and when that, thank God, didn't happen, that's when I knew I couldn't ignore it, I didn't want to ignore it, any longer. It was time to listen to my heart, and to follow it back to the only man who's ever held it: you.

"That's the other half of Blake's theory: that **I** have always loved **you**, and that's why **I** could never make it work with anyone else. I couldn't give my heart to anyone else because I gave it to you when we were young, and you've had it all along. And she's right."

Roger looked at Holly in a wondrous daze. "I thought…I thought somehow I had gotten you to fall in love with me again," he said, but he wasn't joking or being flip. He was completely serious.

"Are you disappointed?" she asked.

"No!" he exclaimed. "I'm amazed. I had no idea that your love for me survived everything I did then."

She slid her arms around his neck. "It did," she replied. "We didn't have the first clue what we were doing back then. We didn't know how to love each other, how to trust each other, and we **really** didn't know how to be married. But despite all of that, Roger, our love survived. It was always there inside us, your love for me, and my love for you. Our love for each other was stronger than the anger and the hate and the bitterness, because the anger and the hate and the bitterness are gone now, and the love is still there. And we've finally learned **how **to love each other, and how to trust each other, and how to be married."

He clasped his hands around her waist, his gaze a mix of amazement and adoration. "I know I've been really insecure the past couple of days…"

"You were entitled to be insecure," Holly replied. "But sixteen months isn't long enough. I want years with you, decades…a lifetime. **Our** lifetime. We're going to grow good and old together." Seeing him smile, she said, "What?"

"You said sixteen months," he said. "That puts it at December '93."

"I know," she said.

"You count it from there instead of from February '94," he said.

"We made it official in February, when I formally asked you to move in, but except for those few days after you went out the window here until Bridget took me to you at the farm, we've been together since Christmas night of 1993, so yes, that's where I count it from," Holly admitted.

"That's where I count it from too," Roger replied. He touched her face. "I didn't want to die, but I wasn't sure if I'd have any real choice in the matter. If I was going to die, though, I wanted your voice to be the last thing I heard, and your face to be the last thing I saw." He looked at her lovingly. "And not only did you take care of me and stand by me, you let me back into your life, and back into your heart."

"You never really left," Holly confessed. "Even when I didn't realize that I still loved you because the love was buried under all the anger and hate, you were always there. And since my love for you **did** survive everything that happened then, I know that no matter what life throws at us, I'm **always** going to love you." She touched her forehead to his for a long moment before pulling back again, making sure that he still held her gaze. "There is **never **going to be some last straw that makes me throw up my hands and leave you. We've already been through every possible last straw. You won't lose me, not now, not ever. I want our lifetime, Roger, and that will never change. It's always been you, and it always **will **be you."

Overwhelmed, Roger enveloped Holly in his embrace. Her arms went around him as he held her tightly and spoke softly in her ear. "You have always been my North Star. You're the one true constant in my life. You're as much a part of me as the color of my eyes, and my heartbeat." He pulled back to look into her eyes, still holding her. "You never left me either. I could never let go of you because you are the only woman I've ever loved. After everything I did so wrong and so badly years ago, I didn't think I'd ever have another chance to make a life with you and get it right this time…but I never wanted anything as much as I wanted that. Every morning, when I wake up and you're the first thing I see—well, with the exception of yesterday—it hits me all over again that I have the one thing that for so long was an impossible dream: I'm married to you. And every morning, before I kiss you awake, I vow to myself that I won't do anything to risk losing you, because I want our lifetime too."

"We were both already damaged when we met, and then, because of the damage each of us already had, combined with our youth and our foolishness, we only damaged each other more," Holly said, stroking his cheek. "But I'm grateful every day that we finally got old enough and wise enough to realize that we couldn't heal ourselves and we couldn't heal each other, not without some help. Therapy is one of the best ideas you've ever had, and you're right, it's very beneficial for us and our relationship."

"I just didn't want to ever run the risk of losing what we have because of my own secretiveness or stupidity," Roger replied earnestly. "I have learned a lot from Dr. Janssen."

"We both have," Holly said. "Talking to her is good for us both. And look at us. We're talking this problem out, and the fact that we **are **talking this problem out is **huge.** We've made real progress, and we're going to keep talking and keep making progress."

"Yes, we are," Roger agreed. "And that reminds me of something I thought of when you were missing, something I wanted to tell you."

"What?" Holly asked, moving forward just enough so that she was now sitting on Roger's lap.

"I know I have a lot more to learn from therapy," he said, "but learning it doesn't intimidate me nearly as much as it did when we started."

"You were intimidated when we started therapy?" she asked. "Me too."

He smiled at her then, so she smiled back at him before growing serious again. "I don't have a crystal ball, Roger. But I spent half of my adult life not knowing what I wanted. Well, now I **do** know what I want: to be your wife, and be by your side. So whatever happens, we are going to face it all together." She rested her hands on his shoulders, gently caressing his collarbones with her thumbs. "I'm here, and I'm never going away again, I swear it on my life. 'Forever' was just a word to me, until we got back together… and now, when I think about forever, I think about us, because to me, that's what forever means: you and me, being together."

"There's nothing I want more than that," Roger said fervently. "My life was so empty without you. **I **was empty, and I thought, well, this is what I deserve, because when I was with Holly before, I didn't do the things I should have done, and I did everything I never should have even **thought** about doing, and I made her hate me, and she has every right. I had my chance at happiness, at a life instead of just an existence, and I blew it.

"But somehow we found each other again, and we figured out that we **can** work, that we **do** work, and my life with you is so full and so rich and so good, better than I probably deserve, and these past couple of days, in the corner of my mind, I was terrified that I might lose it, that I might lose **you**, and I just couldn't bear that, Holly, I just couldn't take it if that happened."

She wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she had wanted to do in the hospital. "It won't," she vowed. "I know about that emptiness that you felt, because all the time we were apart, I felt it too. I missed you for years, with an ache I couldn't even name for most of them." She passed a hand through his hair. "I never want to miss you like that again. And at one point, in the wine cellar, I did get really scared that I would never see you or Blake again, that I would never kiss you or feel your touch or hear your voice again, that I would never feel your arms around me the way they are right now." He wrapped his arms around her more tightly then. "But we made it through the storm, Roger." She let her hand slide down to rest over his heart. "We fought for each other, we fought for **us**, and I know that we always will." She smiled at him. "It's one of the perks of this whole marriage thing: each of us knowing that the other person is always going to be there, and that we'll always be able to work it out."

"We'll always be able to work it out," Roger repeated. His relief was palpable. He framed her face in his hands. "God, I love you, so very much," he rasped hoarsely, fervently.

"I love you too," she replied softly as she leaned into him, meeting his lips in an ardent, urgent kiss. As their tongues dueled and danced, he gently laid her back on the bed, following her down, not breaking the kiss as their hands roamed over each other's bodies, needing to remove the barriers of clothing, needing to feel each other skin to skin.

They undressed each other slowly, punctuating the shedding of clothes with tender kisses and lingering caresses, exulting in the feel of each other. Having faced the very real fear that they might never be together like this again put their emotions in a whole other realm. Their lovemaking was always emotional, but in this moment, all the emotions they usually felt when they made love were multiplied by at least a million.

Fully unencumbered, Roger rolled on top of Holly, wrapping his arms around her and bending his head to kiss his way down her throat as her fingers tangled in his hair. He lifted his head to look into her eyes, seeing all that he felt mirrored there: love, desire, need, certainty.

She reached up to stroke his cheek, and he closed his eyes for a moment. She watched the emotions play across his face in rapid succession: pleasure, joy, relief, love. When he opened his eyes again, she slid her hands from where they had been resting on his sides to his shoulders and pulled him down to her so that their bodies were touching chest to chest, hips to hips, and skin to skin everywhere else. She felt his heart beat against hers, and their eyes remained locked as he merged his body with hers.

With their emotions running so high, their physical lovemaking was even more intense than usual. The way they kissed, touched, responded to one another was everything. Time spun out, then stopped. For both Roger and Holly there was only this, only each other, both of them completely immersed in the touch of hands, the taste and feel of kisses, the feel of her surrounding him and of him inside of her, driving each other ever higher yet keeping each other anchored at the same time, until at last she hurtled over the edge, with him following immediately after her.

They lay side by side in the afterglow, still in each other's arms, still kissing and caressing. Roger brushed Holly's hair off her forehead and said, "Telling Chrissy about the first time we met… The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes. They were so wary."

"Of my father," Holly replied. "He and I were like oil and water, right from the start."

"Then you looked at me, standing there in front of his desk."

"Watching me."

"You really made an impression that first day."

"So did you, standing there all tall, dark, and handsome, looking at me. And then you smiled, and no man had ever smiled at me that way before." He was smiling now, and she traced the outline of his smile with her fingertip. "I was never the girl that the boys looked twice at…until you. And you were very intriguing. You know, the rest of that summer, I kept finding poems that made me think of you. My favorite was Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnet Seven: 'The face of all the world is changed, I think, Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul.'"

"That was certainly true for me," he said. "By the time you left that first day, I was interested. You were smart and feisty and had a great sense of humor, you called me out for staring at you, and you were beautiful."

"And I was the boss's daughter," Holly added, but there was no resentment or anger in her voice; she was merely stating a fact.

"Yes," Roger admitted. He gazed into her eyes. "But the more time I spent with you, the more you fascinated me and interested me. I kept coming back for more because of **you**, Hol, not because of anything to do with your father."

"I know," she assured him. "Back then, though, I didn't really understand why you wanted to be with me. For a long time, I thought it **was **just because of my father. I know now that it wasn't, but…"

"You sell yourself short," he said seriously. "And I'm so glad that all the other guys you crossed paths with before me were such idiots. You should have been snapped up long before the day we met, but I'm so happy that you weren't." He rubbed her shoulder and her upper arm. "The more I got to know you, the more I wanted to be around you. You were even smarter and feistier and had an even better sense of humor than I thought that first day, and you were so passionate about great literature and about your education. It's the same passion I see in you about your career now. When you were working at WSPR the first time, I saw it then too, and it really took me back." He threaded his fingers through hers. "It made me realize just how fulfilling your career is to you. I didn't see it when we were young, that you needed to work besides just being a wife and mother."

"I didn't see it then, either," she admitted. "I saw myself turning into my mother, and that scared me, and it made me angry, because the last thing I wanted was to be like either of my parents. I never wanted to be that cold, that miserable."

"You're not," Roger assured her earnestly. "That could never happen."

"It did happen," she reminded him. "But I finally realized that I didn't have to end up like my parents, that I could be happy, which they never figured out how to do. I just had to learn to trust myself, to trust my heart and my instincts, and thank God I did, because that's what made it possible for me to find happiness in myself, in my life, and then to open myself up to you again, and to Blake like never before, which has made me happier than I ever thought I could be. And I do love my career, and it's very fulfilling, but being your wife, and Blake's mother, fulfills me too. You and me, and Blake, and the station…This is my life, and it's such a better life than I ever thought I would have." She kissed him again then, sweetly, quickly.

"I didn't know how to be happy, and I didn't think I could be my real self, back then, either," Roger said. "But you still saw the real me somehow, and found something about me worth loving. You let me into your life when we were young, and by some fabulous miracle, you let me back into your life years later, after everything we've been through, and after I learned that all I need to be is me." He kissed her hand. "I fell in love with you so hard and so deeply, with your intelligence and your passion and your wit and your beauty, and a million other things besides, and I fall even more in love with you every day. And being your husband, and Chrissy's father… All I have ever wanted is to be by your side, taking care of you, and being a father to our daughter, and finally having that…" He trailed off, knowing that mere words wouldn't truly convey to her how much it all meant to him, and how grateful he was that he still had it.

"I know," she said softly, looking at him tenderly. "My parents thought you were my great act of rebellion because I broke the rules for you," she said. "Which shows how little they really knew me. I **did **break the rules for you, and I'd never done that for anyone before, but it wasn't about breaking the rules. It was about the fact that I loved you, madly, passionately, with all my heart, and I just wanted to be with you. And all these years later, I love you even more, and I still just want to be with you."

He rubbed her back. "I remember the first time you told me you loved me," he said. "You said it, and then you covered my lips with your fingertips and told me not to say it back, because you didn't want me to feel like I **had** to say it just because you said it, but that you just wanted me to know that you were in love with me."

"I had to tell you that night," she said. "It felt like I'd been keeping it to myself for so long, and I just couldn't wait even one more day to tell you."

"I didn't say it back that night because you asked me not to," he continued, "but I loved you then. I loved you, and I was so amazed and so happy that you loved me. That was the first time I thought to myself, if she'll have me, this is exactly where I want to be in another twenty-five, thirty, fifty years: with her, loving her, and knowing that she loves me. And here we are." He smiled.

"Here we are," she repeated, smiling back at him as she moved closer, wrapping her arms around him, gently rubbing his calf with her foot beneath the covers. "And here we stay."

"And here we stay," he repeated right before she leaned down and gave him a long, slow, deep kiss that he eagerly returned.

* * *

_April 12, 1995, 8:28 PM—The Spaulding Mansion_

It was a long, difficult day for the Spauldings, as Alan-Michael spent it mostly fielding press inquiries about Alexandra; Faith went digging through the public archives for more information about Brandon Spaulding since she was suspended from work and stumbled across some truly disturbing information about Brandon's part in keeping Amanda from Alan, and from her biological mother Jennifer Richards as well, as well as the fact that the shock of learning her true parentage, and the lengths to which Brandon Spaulding had gone to deprive her of her rightful family, caused Amanda to lose a baby neither Faith nor Alan-Michael had ever known she had carried; Hope kept going back and forth between Cedars, phone calls to Phillip in Arizona to apprise him of the situation with Alexandra, and anxiously awaiting word from Mike about his conflict with A.D.A. Robinson over whether Alexandra was fit to stand trial for kidnapping Holly; and Alan and Nick, along with Alexandra and Dr. Braddock, worked out a treatment plan for Alexandra and arranged for her transfer to a private psychiatric hospital the next day.

At least Mike brought good news at dinner, having finally convinced Robinson and the D.A.'s office not to take Alexandra to trial, along with the news that Roger was not going to retaliate against Alexandra for kidnapping Holly and imprisoning her in the wine cellar.

But the evening quickly took another turn for the worse when Alan, Hope, Mike, Alan-Michael, Faith, and Nick gathered in the living room after dinner for the family meeting about Brandon Spaulding. Alan was tense, but grimly determined, knowing that Hope and Mike and Nick were right, and they had to get everything out in the open, ugly as it all was.

And so the tragic, twisted saga of the House of Spaulding was revealed bit by bit, to the shock and dismay of Alan-Michael, Faith, and Nick, who had never realized just how truly depraved Brandon Spaulding was, and the far-reaching effects his depravity had on Alan and Alexandra, and in turn all of them, as well as Phillip, Lujack, and Amanda.

All the painful truths came out: Phillip's illegal adoption; the revelation to everyone that Justin and Jackie Marler were his natural parents; the way Alan used the then-preteen Phillip to keep Mike and Elizabeth apart after Alan and Elizabeth divorced by turning Phillip against Mike, convincing him that Mike was directly responsible for Alan and Elizabeth's divorce and the breakup of Phillip's family; Alan and Hope's separation when Alan-Michael was a baby; Brandon arranging for Nick to be given to the McHenrys to be raised and paying off Eric Luvonaczak to take Lujack and leave Alexandra, robbing her of both her sons' lives until they were grown.

Then Faith admitted what she had discovered in the public archives about Jennifer Richards' murder trial, in which Mike had been her defense attorney, and Mike, Alan, and Hope answered her questions and clarified that yes, Brandon had known about Alan's romance with Jennifer Richards when he was a young man, and had taken their baby girl, Amanda, and given her to his acquaintance and employee Lucille Wexler—who was not a paragon of mental health herself by any means—to raise, and as if him ripping Amanda away from both of her parents, with Alan not even knowing of Jennifer's pregnancy, and giving her away wasn't horrifying enough, he was sadistic enough to spell it all out in his will, acknowledging Amanda as Alan and Jennifer's daughter, and his granddaughter. Amanda was pregnant when the truth was revealed during Jennifer's trial, and the shock was so great that it led her to lose her baby, a girl.

And then came the final injustice: after Alan took the company away from Brandon and relegated him to a nursing home, Brandon faked his death and escaped to Barbados, where he lived out the rest of his days with the family he did not feel compelled to abuse and try to destroy at every turn.

Alan-Michael and Faith were sickened to learn that their sister had lost a child, but at the same time her distance from the rest of the family made more sense to them both than it ever had. Nick, meanwhile, realized that it could have been so much worse for him; true, he hadn't grown up with Alexandra, and he would never know Lujack, and all of that was Brandon Spaulding's fault, but at least the McHenrys were good people who had loved him and raised him well, unlike this Lucille Wexler who had raised Amanda.

"I never really liked being the younger brother," Alan-Michael confessed, still clearly in shock, "but I never realized until now what a bullet I dodged by not being Amanda or Phillip."

"He was depraved," Faith said, referring to Brandon. "He was a sociopath. He had no morals, no scruples, no conscience, no heart. He certainly didn't care about anyone or anything but his own agenda, at least among his family here. If I were Aunt Alex, I would have shot the son of a bitch when I found him in Barbados."

Just then, the doorbell rang. They heard Vera open the front door and then ask whoever it was to please wait in the foyer. Then she came into the living room and addressed Alan. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Spaulding, but the police are here."

Alan was surprised. "What on earth for?" he wondered. "And why didn't they call first?"

"That's really not the way it works most of the time, Dad," Faith said distractedly, wondering which of her colleagues was waiting in the foyer.

Alan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Send them in, Vera," he said.

"Right away," Vera said, hurrying away. "You can go on in, Detective."

A moment later, Patrick Cutter appeared in the living room. He saw the grim looks on Nick's, Hope's and Mike's faces, the shock on Alan-Michael's, the horror on Faith's, the coiled tension in Alan Spaulding, and knew that he had just walked in on something emotionally heavy.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to ask you all some follow-up questions," Cutter said.

"This really isn't the best time, Detective," Alan said edgily.

"Dad, he's just doing his job," Faith said.

"And was he just doing his job when he didn't defend you to your chief at the hospital last night?" Alan wanted to know.

"Dad!" Faith exclaimed, exasperated. Between the stress of what had happened last night with Alexandra and Holly, her suspension, what she'd read in the public archives about Jennifer Richards' murder trial, and everything she had just learned about the depths of Brandon Spaulding's depravity and how he had done his damnedest to destroy her entire family before she was even born, she was in no mood for her father to get into a shouting match with her boss over the suspension, because technically, she shouldn't have been working the case in any capacity, given Alexandra's involvement.

"I did defend my officer, Mr. Spaulding," Cutter informed him evenly. "However, the decision is out of my hands now. But that's not why I'm here. I do have some follow-up questions about last night for all of you."

Mike stepped into the breach, knowing that Alan had had all he could stand emotionally in the last 24 hours. "What do you need to know, Detective?" he asked. Nick and Alan-Michael joined Mike in turning their attention to Cutter while Hope rubbed Alan's shoulders and talked to him quietly, calming him down, and Faith's gaze darted back and forth among them all, following Cutter's questions and Mike, Nick, and Alan-Michael's answers, and making sure that her mother was going to get her father calm enough so that he would not literally rip Cutter's head from his shoulders.

Cutter was quick and efficient with his questions, and after he bid them all good night and took his leave, the phone rang. It was Phillip, calling for another update, and to inform the family that he had reached Amanda in Montreal (Alan had been too busy with Alexandra, Dr. Braddock, and Nick, working on the arrangements for Alex's transfer to the psychiatric hospital to call her) and she was waiting for a phone call from Alan and/or Hope to fill in the details Phillip hadn't been able to provide her. While Alan talked to Phillip, since Hope had spoken to him twice already that day, Nick headed upstairs to start to try to process everything, and Alan-Michael and Faith said good night to their mother and grandfather, accepted nods from their father as a good night, and headed outside.

"I'm not sorry I never met him," Alan-Michael said when they got outside.

"He should be grateful he's dead," Faith seethed. "If he wasn't, I'd be looking at a serious police brutality charge right now for cracking his skull like a coconut."

Alan-Michael slung an arm around his baby sister's shoulders. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," he said.

"After everything we just learned about Brandon, I'm not even sure if Roger Thorpe is on my bad side anymore," Faith said. "He could have made things a lot worse for Aunt Alex, and I'm so relieved he isn't, I can't even begin to tell you."

"Love is a powerful motivator," Alan-Michael mused. "If Aunt Alex went to trial, Roger knows that Holly would have to relive not only the kidnapping and what she went through to get out of that wine cellar, but also the most painful, most horrible parts of their past together." He looked up at the sky for a moment, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. "It's like Mom said earlier tonight: when you find true love and it's really right, it brings out the best in you, generally speaking. And if there's any best to be brought out in Roger, Holly's the only person on the planet who could do it."

Eager for a subject change, Faith nudged her brother in the ribs. "Speaking of true love that's right, when are you going to man up and tell Lucy you were an idiot to let her get away and you're crazy about her and you want another chance with her?" she wanted to know.

"Well, when are you going to find a man who will love and appreciate you as more than just a platonic friend?" he shot back.

"Typical man," she said, rolling her eyes. "You don't go looking for true love, Alan-Michael. It finds you, when and where you least expect it. It's what you do when you know you've found it that matters."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Alan-Michael said. "Typical woman. All moony-eyed about fate and serendipity and chance."

"Maybe if you'd work things out with Lucy, you would be too. At least the moony-eyed part. Don't think I didn't notice the way you followed her around like a puppy dog all night at the fundraiser for Cedars last month at the country club, the night Uncle Ed gave his speech," she reminded her brother. "Seriously, Alan-Michael tell her."

"She's with somebody else now," Alan-Michael said glumly.

"And she told you she was gonna marry you someday," Faith reminded him.

"That was almost two years ago," Alan-Michael said, remembering that night at Ed's cabin.

"She thinks she has to move on because she thinks you're not in love with her anymore, you dunderhead!" Faith said. "I'm not saying propose to her…yet. But tell her how you really feel."

"Tell her I got scared because I've already been divorced three times and I'm barely 30, and even with all of that, she's made me feel things I didn't even know I was capable of feeling?" he asked.

"That's good for a start," Faith replied. "I would also add that you missed her like crazy, you're madly in love with her, and you'd like to start over. I bet she'd say yes." She sing-songed the last part.

"I'll think about it," Alan-Michael said. They had reached their cars now. "Are you okay to drive?"

"Yeah," Faith said. She hugged him. "Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Alan-Michael agreed, patting her back. "Drive safe."

"You too," Faith said before she and Alan-Michael separated, got in their cars, and headed home to try and process everything that had happened, and everything they had learned, in the last 24 hours.

* * *

_April 12, 1995, 9:51 PM—Faith Spaulding's Apartment_

When Faith arrived home, Patrick Cutter was sitting outside her door, tie loosened, collar unbuttoned, paper bag in hand. "Did something else happen?" she asked as he stood up.

"I'm not here in an official capacity," he replied. "I obviously walked in on something heavy at your parents' house earlier, and I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"It was a truth-telling session," Faith said as she unlocked her front door. "All about how Brandon Spaulding tried to destroy the family that he hated, and after inflicting as much damage as possible, all of it undeserved, he ran off to live out the rest of his life with the family that he somehow cared about, although how that's possible, I don't even know, because after everything he did to my dad and Aunt Alex, and to Amanda and Nick and Lujack, and the effect it had on the way my dad raised Phillip, and what it could have done to my parents' marriage and what **that** would have meant for Alan-Michael and me, and how he is **still** tormenting especially my Aunt Alex from beyond the grave, I'm convinced he was incapable of love of any kind."

She looked at Cutter with wounded eyes. "He stole both of Aunt Alex's sons away from her. She didn't even know Nick existed until four years ago! And she only had two years with Lujack before he died. She missed the first 30 years of Nick's life, and practically all but the last two years of Lujack's, and it's all because of him!"

"Lujack?" Cutter asked, removing a bottle of bourbon from the paper bag and helping himself to two glasses in Faith's kitchen as she dropped her purse and keys on the table, hung up her coat, and kicked off her shoes.

"If your name was Brandon Luvonaczek, you'd go by Lujack too," Faith said. "Apparently he couldn't pronounce his last name when he was a little boy. And considering he was named after the son of a bitch that ripped him away from his family, he was smart not to go by his first name either.

"And my sister Amanda! Oh my god! Brandon knew that Jennifer Richards was pregnant, never told our father, took the baby away from Jennifer and gave her to some nut job named Lucille Wexler to raise, and here's the kicker: he acknowledged Amanda's true heritage in his will, and then it all came out in a very public manner, in the middle of Jennifer Richards' trial for murder." Faith swallowed hard as Cutter handed her a glass of bourbon. "Amanda was pregnant at the time. She lost the baby. A little girl. And then she got divorced. Ironically, her ex-husband later married Rita Stapleton's sister. But Amanda was kept from my father, kept from all of us, until she was grown, and she lost her baby. She didn't deserve that, Patrick. And Lujack and Nick didn't deserve to be kept away from their mother their whole lives, practically. Although if Eric Luvonaczek ever shows his face in Springfield again, Nick and Fletcher aren't the only ones who are going to want a piece of him, because he let Brandon buy him off and give Nick away."

"I take it he was Nick and Lujack's father?" Cutter said before taking a sip of his own bourbon.

"Yes," Faith said, rolling her half-empty glass between her palms, "and he was just as worthless a bastard in his own way as Brandon Spaulding was." She sighed as she looked up at Cutter. "My father and Aunt Alex have been paying for having him as a father their whole lives. I didn't think my father was afraid of anything, but if you had seen him last night when Dr. Braddock was telling us how far back Aunt Alex's problems go, how deeply they're rooted…" She shoved a hand through her hair impatiently. "My parents separated when Alan-Michael was practically still a baby. If they hadn't worked things out, I wouldn't even exist."

"Well, thank God they worked it out," Cutter said feelingly, unwilling to even contemplate a world without Faith Spaulding in it.

Faith set her glass on the coffee table, and Cutter followed suit. "My mother is without a doubt the best thing that ever happened to my father. If he had lost her, if he had missed out on the life he's had with her, if he hadn't been there when Alan-Michael was growing up, if I hadn't been there at all, then my dad would be in the same boat as Aunt Alex: his father would have completely ruined his life the same way he completely ruined hers. She's still afraid of him, Patrick. She's still afraid that he'll be mad at her for letting Roger take over the company and the house and everything. He's dead! How long do we all have to pay? How much do all of us have to lose, or almost lose, because of him? Where and when does the devastation he wrought finally end? **Why can't he just stay dead and buried so Aunt Alex and Dad can at least have the peace of mind they never had when that bastard was alive!"**

Cutter pulled Faith into his arms and held her tight. She rested her head wearily against his chest as she clung to him. "Well, it's a good thing he's dead," he said, "because if he wasn't, I'd be paying him a visit right about now and I wouldn't be worried about professional ethics in the least."

She held onto him a moment longer before releasing him to climb into his lap, her arms going around his neck. "I said something similar to Alan-Michael a little while ago," she admitted. "Brandon hurt them all so badly, Patrick. He's still hurting Aunt Alex. I never thought I could be grateful to Roger Thorpe, but he's not pursuing a vendetta against Alexandra, which would just make everything worse than it already is. She has enough to deal with right now without having to worry about a trial or jail time." She sighed. "The distance between Amanda and the rest of the family…why Phillip took the company away from Dad years ago…why my father and Aunt Alex can attack each other in the name of business and still fight for each other at the same time… I understand it all now. I just wish there was something I could do to make it better for everyone."

"Well, your aunt is going to get the help she needs, and she won't be going to jail or even to trial," he pointed out. "That's good."

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "And Fletcher's going to be there for her. He's good for her. Maybe he could be as good for her as my mom is for my dad. At least he loves her for her, and nobody could ever buy him off." Patrick was rubbing slow, lazy circles on Faith's back now, and it was calming her down. "After everything I just told you, you should be running for the hills."

He shook his head. "Not gonna happen," he told her. "Not unless you tell me to get out of your life."

"Not gonna happen," she replied, cupping his cheek in her palm and stroking it with her thumb. "Before tonight, the thing I was proudest of myself for was being a police officer. Now, I'm even prouder, because it means that I'm probably the one grandchild that tyrannical bastard would have had the least amount of time or respect for, and I consider that an accomplishment. If I **could **say one thing to Brandon Spaulding and really mean it, I would tell him that his precious company means nothing to me. That would get him where it hurts."

"You should be proud of yourself," Patrick replied. "You're a good cop. But don't make the mistake of thinking that's the only thing worth a damn about you."

"You still sure you want to keep seeing me on the down low, now that you know how much of a Machiavellian, evil bastard my grandfather was?" Faith asked.

"Yes," Patrick replied without hesitation. "Like I said, the only way I leave you is if you tell me to get out of your life."

She exhaled a sigh of relief before leaning down to kiss him. When she broke the kiss, she asked, "Could you just hold me?"

"Whatever you want," he said, brushing another kiss across her lips before lying down on the couch and pulling her down with him to rest in his arms. They lay there just holding each other, not talking, and it wasn't long before Faith was sound asleep. Patrick debated whether he should carry her to the bed, try to get her into some pajamas or at least take off her shirt and slacks, and strip down to his t-shirt and boxers himself, but ultimately he decided against it. She'd had a hard week, the last 24 hours of it especially hellish, and she needed her sleep. He lightly rested his chin against the top of her head and was soon asleep himself, not relinquishing his hold on her as they slept through the night on the couch.


	18. Hearts Feel More Than You Can See

_April 14, 1995, 6:21 AM—Faith Spaulding's Apartment_

As much as Patrick hated to wake Faith, he had to get home so he could shower and change and still make it to work on time. "Faith," he said softly. She murmured and shifted in his arms. "Faith, wake up." He gently shook her shoulder.

Faith groaned as she cracked one eye open, then sat up, blinking blearily at Patrick. "What time is it?" she asked through a yawn.

"Almost 6:30," he said. "I have to be at the station by eight, and I still have to go home and shower and change."

She sat up, stretching her arms above her head. "Right," she said. Even though she was still suspended, she had a lot to do today herself, and the earlier she got started, the better. "I want to call my mom, and check on Aunt Alex, and I have a few other things to take care of today too."

"With the holiday, we probably won't be dealing with your suspension until Monday," Patrick said, referencing the fact that Easter was on Sunday, two days from now.

"I figured," she said. She stroked his cheek. "Thanks for staying last night."

"You feel any better this morning?" he asked, peering at her critically.

"I'm a lot more rested than I would have been if you hadn't been here," she replied honestly. She leaned in and brushed a quick kiss across his lips. "You'd better get a move on. You don't want to be late."

"Yeah," he said. "Hang in there, kid." They hugged quickly before she walked him to her front door to see him out. Then she headed in to shower and change herself before checking in with her mother about Alexandra and then heading out.

* * *

_April 14, 1995, 9:07 AM—Roger and Holly's House_

"I won't be long," Roger promised, lingering by the front door.

"It's fine," Holly assured him, resting her hands on his shoulders. "**I'm** fine. Blake's here. Everything's okay." She kissed him.

"We'll both be right here when you get back, Daddy," Blake promised as she approached holding two coffee mugs, one for herself and one for Holly, as Holly released Roger.

"Well, maybe if someone had actually stocked the fridge yesterday like she said she was going to," Roger said, looking over Holly's shoulder at Blake. "There are enough liquids in there to surround this house with a moat, which would be fine if you'd picked up a few other things, like bread, eggs, coffee, maybe some pasta or a couple of steaks."

"Well, we don't want Mom to dehydrate again, do we?" Blake challenged.

"No, but your mother and I would like a little food with our wide assortment of beverages," Roger retorted.

"Which is why you're headed to the grocery store now," Blake reminded him. "And the sooner you go, the sooner you can get back."

"All right, I'm going," Roger said. "Have fun." He kissed Holly again quickly before leaving.

"I thought he'd never leave!" Blake exclaimed after they heard Roger's car drive away. "Now, you said when you called that you wanted to talk to me about something. Please say it's Daddy's birthday!"

"Yes," Holly replied, seating herself on the couch with her coffee.

"Good," Blake said, settling herself on the other end of the couch with her own coffee. "What are we going to do about his birthday?"

"Well..." Holly began. She quickly outlined her idea, and Blake enthusiastically agreed. They were interrupted by a knock at the front door.

"I'll get it," Blake said. When she opened the door, Faith Spaulding was standing there. "Faith!" she exclaimed. "Come in." Holly rose from her place on the couch.

"Thank you," Faith replied.

"We heard about your suspension," Blake said. "Is it really because of the case?"

"No," Faith said. "That has to do with what happened at the mansion, and it's a well-earned suspension. The Chief was absolutely right to call for my head on a platter. The only reason things aren't moving on that yet is because Robinson is parading around the station demanding movement. Once Cutter has some time, we'll be meeting with the Chief and the review board. But that's not even a blip on the radar right now." She looked to Holly then. "How are you doing, Holly?"

"I'm doing a lot better now that I'm out of your wine cellar," Holly said. "Please, sit down. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"No, thank you," Faith said. She sat down in a chair as Blake and Holly resumed their seats. "I've done a lot of thinking in the past few days about what's gone on between our families in the past, and I include both sides of mine in there." She looked at Holly then. "I never should have blamed you for that story in the _Journal_ the day after Valentine's Day, and even if there **was **any justification there, I certainly never should have questioned your professional integrity because of a mistake. I know you've probably let it go, but…" She pushed a hand through her hair. "There have been so many grudges that have held on for so long and affected so many of us, and I just…I wanted to square it with you personally and tell you that I didn't mean any of it, including what I said about you and Roger, and I hope you'll accept my apology."

"Of course I will," Holly said. "When things didn't really change between us, or between you and Blake, I figured you were just letting off steam. I'm sure that was a difficult evening for your entire family."

"Not as difficult as this week has been," Faith said. "But Alexandra is getting the help she needs now. For whatever it's worth, Holly, if it's worth anything at all, what happened really wasn't about you."

"I know," Holly said.

"It wasn't even completely about Roger," Faith admitted. "It turns out that Aunt Alex has kept a lot of pain bottled up inside, and a lot of that pain is directly traceable back to her father. Roger had a part in things, and so did a few other people, but the root causes go back to Brandon Spaulding and the kind of man he was and what he did to Alexandra."

"Does the rest of your family know that Alexandra's breakdown was not entirely my father's fault?" Blake asked then.

"Yes," Faith replied. "And all of us really appreciate the fact that Roger isn't coming after Alexandra with both barrels."

"That's the last thing any of us needs now," Holly said, "and believe it or not, Roger does recognize that fact. It's not easy for him, but he doesn't want to prolong this war between us any more than you do."

"I'm also sorry we didn't get to you sooner this week," Faith continued.

"I heard that you had figured out where I was, but that I got out before you could execute your search warrant," Holly said. "I appreciate everything that you, and the entire department, did to find me. Really, I do."

The trio were silent for a moment before Faith stood up. "I should get going. I really just wanted to make sure that you were okay, Holly, and to make sure that we're okay."

"I am, and we are," Holly assured her. "And thank you for coming by." Blake echoed her mother's sentiments.

Faith was outside walking to her car when Roger got home. "Well, hello, Officer," he said as he cut the engine. "It's still Officer, isn't it?"

"That's still in question," Faith admitted. "I was just leaving."

"What, did you come here to badger Holly on Alexandra's behalf?" Roger wanted to know as he got out of his car. "There's no way you're here for any kind of follow-up statement. Or have you simply decided to disregard your richly deserved suspension just like you disregarded any bit of standard procedure?" He headed to the trunk to unload the groceries. He wasn't going after Alexandra, but he was still plenty angry at the police department for the way they had treated him and treated Holly's case.

"Roger, whatever you think of me, and however much Spaulding I have in me, I have just as much Bauer in me," Faith told him. She waited until he was looking at her again before continuing, "I'm sorry for what you've been through-for what Alexandra put you through. And I came here today to apologize to Holly for what Alexandra put **her **through, and for what **I** said to her the day after Valentine's Day regarding a certain story in the _Journal, _as well as to let her know that what happened wasn't really about her."

"No, it wasn't about her. It was about me," Roger said, frowning.

"It wasn't as much about you as you think it was," Faith said. When Roger looked at her, surprised, Faith said, "You were no picnic for Aunt Alex, but you weren't her worst nightmare either. The owner of that dubious distinction is the root cause of a lot of Alexandra's pain. Make no mistake, you bear responsibility for your share of her pain, but what she did to Holly wasn't just about her getting revenge on you. And her breakdown was not all about you either, and before you ask, as I told Blake and Holly when Blake asked, yes, my entire family knows that."

Roger was floored. Holly had told him in the hospital that the fact that Alexandra had come completely unhinged was not all on him, and now here Faith was telling him the same thing. Not only telling him the same thing, but telling him that all of the Spauldings knew it. So it had to be true, he reasoned, because Faith certainly wouldn't tell him this if it weren't true.

Faith could see that Roger was absorbing what she'd said. "I just have one more thing to say," she said. Roger looked at her warily. "My entire family is very grateful that you're not going after Alexandra with both barrels."

"I never expected one Spaulding to be grateful to me for anything, let alone the entire clan," Roger said.

"Well, we are," Faith replied. "I know it's not easy for you to leave Alexandra to the doctors—"

"It's against my nature, you mean," Roger interjected.

"You said it, I didn't," Faith said. She tilted her head and looked at him consideringly. "Although if I were to venture a guess, I'd say that you found something more important and more satisfying to you than getting revenge. But whatever the reason, we appreciate it, Roger."

"Don't appreciate it too much. A restraining order is now in effect against Alexandra. If she comes within 500 feet of Holly or Blake or me, she'll go straight to jail," Roger warned her.

"That's fair," Faith replied. "Goodbye, Roger."

Roger watched Faith drive off before hefting the grocery bags from the trunk and heading inside, still trying to absorb the facts that he was not solely responsible for Alex's breakdown and the Spauldings knew that, and, even more astounding, that they were actually grateful to him for not seeking some kind of revenge on Alexandra.

* * *

_April 14, 1995, 12:32 PM—Wheels and Meals Diner_

Tangie was just leaving the diner as Patrick Cutter entered. "Hi," she said.

"Hello, Tangie," he replied. "Just leaving?"

"Yeah," she said. "I have to get back to work." She adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. "How is Faith?"

"She's had a really rough week, especially last night, but she's hanging in there," he replied. "That's about all she can do." He scratched his head. "I, uh, don't think I've ever thanked you."

"For what?"

"For keeping it quiet that Faith and I are seeing each other outside the precinct."

"What are friends for?" Tangie asked rhetorically. "Although either you two are better at flying under the radar than anyone I've ever known, or I'm the only really observant person either of you knows. But I guess with everything going on with her family right now, this isn't the right time for you two to go public."

"I don't think it would be very wise at the moment, no. Regardless, I know that some people think that you and I are seeing each other, I mean as more than friends," he continued.

"If that's your way of asking if Blake is wondering if you and I are going to move in together soon, don't worry, Detective. She has brought it up, but I didn't even really have to say anything. She convinced herself you weren't the type to shack up with a woman without benefit of at least an engagement ring, if not a wedding set," Tangie said wryly. "Another few months, though, and she may start asking if you're afraid to make a commitment to me."

"Terrific," Cutter said dryly. "Now that her parents are married off to each other, she figures that anybody can make it work if they can."

"It's actually a compliment to you, if you really think about it," Tangie said, ignoring the slight barb. "She wouldn't be so interested if she didn't like you. And she's friends with Faith…they used to be related, actually, now that I think about it…"

"Twice over, since Blake was married to both of Faith's brothers at different times," Cutter murmured. Tangie chose not to acknowledge the statement, but it was more proof—not that she needed any—that Cutter was more serious about Faith than even he realized, to know her family history the way he obviously did.

"Anyway," Tangie said, "I'm the one who will undoubtedly be the recipient of dozens of blind dates from Hell once you and Faith **do** go public. Blake will be thrilled for the two of you, and then turn her attention to finding a man for me."

"And when the time comes, you'll have my full sympathy," Cutter replied.

"Thank you. As for the other, you're welcome. But whenever you're ready for me to acknowledge that you and I are nothing more than very good, strictly platonic friends, just say the word," Tangie said. "And on that note, I really have to get back to the office. I'm helping to run the ship for a few hours this afternoon, since Nick's divorce is being heard, and Fletcher is with Alexandra Spaulding right now, so I'll see you later."

"See you later," Cutter said before heading into the diner to get some lunch, as Tangie headed to her car to head back to the _Journal_ offices.

* * *

_April 14, 1995, 3:27 PM—Roycedale Psychiatric Hospital, Outside of Springfield_

Alexandra was all checked in at Roycedale, the private psychiatric hospital 45 minutes outside of Springfield. Dr. Braddock had privileges there and would be overseeing her treatment for the duration of her stay, which would be at least two months.

Nick, Alan, and Fletcher were all there, waiting to get in to see her before taking their leave. Dr. Braddock exited Alexandra's room and said, "You can go in one at a time."

"Go ahead, Nick," Fletcher said.

"Yes, Nick," Alan agreed.

Nick entered his mother's room. Alexandra was standing at the window that overlooked the large rose garden just beginning to bloom in the increasingly warming spring weather. Nick wondered for a moment what to say. He didn't want to tell her about his lengthy phone conversation with Beth the night before, about Lujack. Alexandra and Beth had been the two people who had known Lujack best, although Hope had been able to fill in a few blanks for him about the brother he would never know. Beth had been willing to discuss Lujack; as she herself said, thinking about him and talking about him didn't make her break down crying anymore. It meant a lot to Nick when Beth ended their conversation, after promising to send him some pictures and a copy of Lujack's music video by overnight express, by telling him that while she was certain that he and Lujack would have clashed upon first meeting, she was just as certain that Lujack would have been proud to have Nick for a brother, and that he would have always had Nick's back no matter what. But Nick didn't want to run the risk of upsetting his mother by bringing up Lujack just yet. There would be plenty of time for that later on.

Alexandra turned away from the window to look at him. "You're still here," she said, sounding somewhat surprised by that fact.

"So are Fletcher and Alan. They're waiting outside," Nick replied. "But I have to get back to Springfield. My divorce is being heard today, so I have to get to court." When Alex opened her mouth to say something, Nick hurried on. "And before you start raising your blood pressure, Melinda didn't want a settlement, so I'm not actually paying her a dime."

"No settlement?" Alex repeated. She would have thought Mindy would have bled Nick dry, as a way to stick it to Alexandra if nothing else.

"We can both see now that our marriage was a mistake for several reasons," Nick said. "And it's not like she needs the money. She even said that herself. So no, there's no settlement, and no alimony. Really, this is just a formality to restore each of us to legally single status." He crossed the room to join Alexandra at the window. "I'm so sorry for the pain my relationship with her, and my marriage to her, caused you."

"I didn't handle myself very well with Mindy," Alex admitted.

"That is perfectly understandable, given your history together," Nick replied. "I did love her, once. But it wasn't the kind of love that you build a lifetime on. We both see that now. If I had seen it sooner, maybe I could have spared you some pain."

"I just wanted you to be happy, darling," Alex said, reaching out to take his hand in both of hers, "even if Mindy was the one who made you happy. I hate that you got hurt, and I apologize for my part in that hurt."

"Then we're on the same page," Nick said. "And since Melinda is about to be officially consigned to both of our pasts, you and I can concentrate on what's really important: the future. And it's going to be good. Maybe not right away, but it will."

"I'm going to get well, Nick," Alexandra assured him.

"I know you are," Nick replied with a firm nod. He happened to catch sight of the time on his watch then. "I hate to have to leave so soon, but I have to get to court. I'll see you tomorrow, though, and every day after that until you're home again." He hugged her then, and she hugged him back. He kissed her cheek, then drew back, looked her right in the eyes, and said, "I love you, Mom."

Tears sprang to Alexandra's eyes. Nick had just called her 'Mom.' "I love you too, Nick," she said, struggling to keep her voice even.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Nick said before leaving.

Alexandra had just managed to regain her composure when Fletcher walked in. "Just let me get this out first, okay?" he said before she could even open her mouth. "I owe you a big apology for going on about Roger and Holly the way I did. Yeah, it bothered me, I think it bothered everybody in one way or another, when they got married because you just don't expect to see something like that happen, given their history together, but it did. I didn't get it. I still don't get it. But it doesn't matter, because it's their marriage, their business, and certainly no skin off my nose. But I realize now that it was an unfair comparison. Any comparison is unfair. Our relationship is ours, and whatever happens with Roger and Holly, or any other couple we know for that matter, is not and should never be an allegory for what happens with us. It seemed to you that I had a little bit of an obsession with their relationship, which fed into yours, and I never would have made the comparison in the first place if I'd known what you were thinking, so I'm sorry I did that."

"I wasn't making you a priority, Fletch," Alex replied. "You had every right to be as angry with me as you were."

"In case you didn't know or weren't sure, I'm not angry anymore," Fletcher said. "And they do have phones in this place, so if you ever want or need to talk to somebody that's not part of the staff here, or a relative, I'd love to hear your voice."

"I did enjoy our late-night talks," Alex admitted wistfully.

"There's no reason why they can't continue," Fletcher said. "I want them to continue. I hope you do too, because it won't just be the Spauldings that are waiting for you. Ben and I will be waiting too." Then he leaned in and gently kissed her. "I love you, Alexandra," he said when he pulled back.

"I love you too, Fletcher," she said, once again struggling to maintain her composure before hugging him goodbye.

After Fletcher left, Alan came in. "Alan," Alexandra said, "I am so sorry for the humiliation I've brought down on the company and on the family."

"Now, Alexandra, I've told you numerous times already that I won't hear of an apology," Alan said firmly. "After all, think of what I've done to embarrass the family and the company over the years." He looked at her dejectedly. "I'm the one who owes you an apology."

"Whatever for?" she asked.

"I've fallen down on the job of protecting you," Alan replied. "You truly believed that you were alone."

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, Alan, but in a very real sense, I **was **alone," Alex said. "You had Hope and your children. I didn't have anyone or anything like that. But maybe…maybe I finally have a chance to have it with Nick and with Fletcher, and even with Ben, if I can learn to break from Brandon's mold the way you did."

"You can," Alan assured her. "And you won't be doing it alone. We are all going to be there to help you in every way we can, and you won't be the only one finally laying Brandon Spaulding to rest once and for all. It's time for all of us to do that…which is why I told our children about Brandon." He anxiously watched her face for any sign that she was upset or angry about this, but her expression didn't change. "He's taken too much from all of us, Alexandra, or tried to, and he's not going to take one more thing.

"For so long, it was the two of us against the world, but it isn't just the two of us against the world any longer. It's the two of us, and Hope, and Fletcher, and our children against the world. Brandon Spaulding is not going to hurt any of us ever again."

Were the men in her life all determined to make her cry, Alexandra wondered. First Nick, then Fletcher, and now Alan.

"The only thing you worry about, the only thing you concentrate on, is getting well," Alan told her. "The company will still be there when you get home, and in the meantime, I'll take care of everything until you're well enough to return and try to oust me." He graced her with a cocky smile then, and she laughed through the lump of emotion in her throat.

"I'm going to remind you of that when I'm taking the CEO chair back from you," she told him.

"I would expect nothing less," Alan replied before they embraced.

* * *

_April 15, 1995, 1:38 PM—Roger and Holly's House and Ross and Blake's House concurrently_

After lunch on Saturday, Roger and Holly were sitting on the couch, Holly working a crossword puzzle, and Roger going over some paperwork for a meeting he would be having on Tuesday when the phone rang. Since Roger was closer to it than Holly, he answered it. "Hello?"

"Hi, Dad," Blake said on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry to bother you on a Saturday like this—"

"You are never a bother," Roger said firmly. "What's up?"

"I lost my office key, and I just realized I left something in there that I need to finish up the presentation for Cedars," she replied. "Could you meet me down there and let me in?"

"Sure," he said. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay, thanks, Dad. Bye," Blake said. She then hung up and turned to look at Ross. "He bought it. Now, you and the cake are going over to Mom and Dad's house, you'll wait with Mom, and Dad and I will be there in a little while."

"All right," Ross agreed as he went to get the cake from their kitchen.

At Roger and Holly's house, Holly looked up from her crossword puzzle. "Was that Blake?" she asked.

"Yeah," Roger said. "She lost her office key and she needs something to finish up her presentation for the Cedars project, so I have to run down there and unlock her office for her." He set his files on the coffee table and looked at her. "Wanna tag along?"

"No, I think I'll stay here, finish my crossword puzzle," she replied. "It's good practice for Monday, when we both have to go back to work."

He nodded. "Okay," he said. "I won't be long." He kissed her goodbye and then headed out the front door, snaring his jacket on the way out.

After she heard him drive away, she set aside her crossword puzzle with a grin and headed off to change before Roger and Blake got back, and before Ross arrived with the cake.

* * *

_April 15, 1995, 2:09 PM—Roger and Holly's House_

"I really think we have a good chance of getting this," Blake said as she followed Roger to the porch. She had seen Ross's car parked one street over, and since Roger hadn't mentioned it, she figured he hadn't noticed it.

"It would be a real feather in our cap if we got the Cedars job," Roger agreed as he put his key in the front door. "If we do get it, though, we'll have Maureen to thank."

Blake followed him into the house and grinned when he stopped short. He was just about to announce to Holly that he was home, but she was standing by the couch with a big smile on her face, a glass of champagne in each hand, and wearing a dark green evening dress that she would stop traffic in with matching heels and the emerald earrings he had given her on Valentine's Day. Ross came over from the kitchen, also carrying a glass of champagne in each hand.

"What's going on?" Roger asked as Blake closed the door behind him and helped him off with his coat.

"We are celebrating," Holly replied, handing him a glass of champagne. Blake hurriedly took off her own coat and stowed it and her purse, along with Roger's coat, on the coat rack by the front door before returning to the living room and taking one of the glasses of champagne from Ross.

Roger felt like his birthday had been a million years ago now. "My birthday?" he asked. He looked over his shoulder at Blake. "You didn't really lose your office key, did you?" he asked.

Blake smirked at her father. "What do you think?" she asked.

Seeing Blake's smirk, hearing her ask that question of Roger, Holly had the nagging feeling that she was forgetting something, but she couldn't recall exactly what it was.

Roger's eyes lit up then. "Is there still a big present for me in the basement?" he asked.

"Yes," Holly replied, turning her attention back to him now. Roger looked at her hopefully, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. "All right, everybody to the basement. You know I can't resist when you look at me like that." Roger grinned unrepentantly as he set his glass of champagne on the coffee table. The others all followed suit.

But when they got to the top of the basement stairs, Blake and Ross headed on down to the basement and Holly told Roger, "Close your eyes."

"Really? In front of Chrissy and Ross?" he asked, pretending to be scandalized.

"Keep it up, and I'll make you eat cake first," she warned.

His eyes slammed shut immediately. For good measure, Holly covered his eyes with one hand while guiding him down the steps with her other hand on his arm. "Okay," she said, removing her hand from his eyes. "Open up."

Roger opened his eyes to find Blake and Ross standing to one side of a black baby grand piano with matching bench. He looked from the piano to Holly in astonishment. "How did you do this?" he asked.

"I have my ways," she replied with a smile. "I know that we have the piano upstairs, and that's the one you grew up on, but I thought you might like a piano with no unpleasant memories attached to it…and some very pleasant memories waiting to be made with it."

Roger remembered their honeymoon then, the talk they had about some of their fantasies, and things they wanted to do together, one of which Holly had figured out without him specifically saying so: _I knew it! I knew you had a Fabulous Baker Boys fantasy about me_! His eyes widened even more as he looked from Holly to the piano and back again. "Really?" he asked quietly, eagerly.

"Well, as you can see, I fudged it a little," she replied quietly, gesturing to her dress. "I couldn't find an evening dress in red that didn't clash with my hair. But you said you like me better in green anyway."

"I do," he said, giving her a heated gaze. "I **really** do."

"And we're still here!" Blake called from where she was standing with Ross by the piano. "Save the foreplay for when you're alone, please! I may tease you about it, but I don't want a front-row seat to it, and I'm not just saying that for Ross's benefit."

"Thank you anyway," Ross told her in an undertone. Yes, he had accepted Roger and Holly's marriage as a good thing, but watching them look at each other with such heat made him distinctly uncomfortable. After all, he didn't figure they, especially Roger, would appreciate it if he looked at Blake that way in their view.

"You have to play something for us, Daddy!" Blake exclaimed.

"Yes," Ross piped up. "Blake told me last year about how you played for her and Holly, and she said you're very talented. I'd like to hear just how talented you are for myself."

"Any requests?" Roger asked as he walked over and seated himself at the piano, Holly following after him and standing on the side of the piano opposite from Blake and Ross.

"Surprise us," Ross answered.

In reply, Roger launched into "Für Elise." Holly, Blake, and Ross stood silent, watching him play. When he finished "Für Elise," Roger launched into a spirited rendition of "Take the 'A' Train," and he followed that up with a bold instrumental version of "Light My Fire."

Holly was as mesmerized as she always was when Roger played the piano, watching enthralled as his fingers danced up and down the keyboard. Blake was even prouder then she had been the night he had played for her and Holly over a year ago. Ross was completely blown away. "Roger, I had no idea you could play like that," he said when Roger had finished "Light My Fire," impressed. "Talk about a hidden talent."

"It's not completely hidden," Roger pointed out. "I play for Holly and Chrissy, and now you, and because I enjoy it. That's enough for me."

Ross wasn't sure why Roger exchanged a meaningful look with Holly then, but he definitely noticed it, as did Blake. "Why don't we go on upstairs and get the cake ready, Ross?" Blake asked. She looked at her parents, still looking at each other. "We'll give you two a minute. But **only** a minute, which is not enough time to start anything, so behave yourselves!"

After Blake and Ross had headed upstairs, Holly sat down on the piano bench beside Roger. "Thank you," he said. "This is… You never cease to amaze me."

"Well, I wanted your birthday to be memorable. For good reasons," she added.

"It is," he said, turning to face her. "Everything is, because you're a part of it." He stroked her cheek.

She leaned in to kiss him then, but before they could get too carried away, Blake called downstairs, "Cake time! And you do have another present up here, Dad!"

They broke the kiss and sat for a few seconds with their foreheads touching. "We'll come back later, alone," Holly said.

"Something to look forward to," Roger grinned as he ushered her upstairs.

A round chocolate cake with five candles (one for each decade of his life) waiting to be lit was on the kitchen table. Blake was holding an envelope, which she handed to Roger with a big smile and a hearty, "Happy birthday, Dad!"

The envelope contained a thick brochure for a bed and breakfast a couple of hours outside of Springfield. "They're expecting your call," Blake said. "One weekend, all expenses paid, anytime between now and Labor Day. Apparently there's some amazing fall foliage downstate that people come from miles around to look at, so they're always booked solid from Labor Day weekend through Thanksgiving weekend."

"Thank you, honey," Roger said as he hugged Blake. "You too, Ross."

Ross nodded from the kitchen. "I've taken the liberty of freshening everyone's champagne," he said as he carried a tray with four glasses of champagne over to the kitchen table.

Once everyone had champagne in hand, Blake said, "I would like to propose a toast. Obviously, none of us expected this week to go the way it has. But the important thing is that here we are at the end of it, together." She raised her glass higher and encompassed both of her parents with her gaze. "It's starting to become a tradition with us, celebrating occasions like this together. I have to say, I really like it."

"So do I," Holly agreed.

"Me too," Roger chimed in.

"So, in honor of this occasion, here's to you, Dad. May the next year of your life be filled with love, joy, and happy surprises, and when there are storms, may you walk between the raindrops with Mom by your side. I love you, and happy birthday." She gave him a kiss on the cheek before touching her glass to his, then Holly's, then Ross's.

"I'll drink to that," Holly said, kissing Roger's other cheek before touching the rim of her glass to his.

Ross touched his glass to Holly's, then Roger's, as Blake lit the candles on the cake. "Make a wish, Dad," she said.

Roger looked at Holly, beaming beside him; at Blake, shaking out the match and then looking at him with a smile; and Ross standing behind and to the side of Blake, champagne in hand and an expression that actually was not the least bit pained on his face. Even if, as Roger suspected, this wasn't Ross's idea of something worth celebrating, he was at least going along with it without complaint.

What did he wish for when his longest- and deepest-held wishes had already come true, were, in fact, right there beside him?

_ I wish for many more times like this with Holly and Chrissy and, okay, even Ross_, he thought as he took a deep breath and then blew out all five candles.

* * *

_April 15, 1995, 11:06 PM—Roger and Holly's House_

"Blake wants us there for brunch tomorrow at 11," Holly said as Roger got into bed beside her. She marked her place in her book and set it on her nightstand before turning off the lamp.

"Okay by me," Roger replied, settling himself under the covers. He turned over on his side and propped his head on his hand, looking at Holly in the dim light of the room. "Today was a great day."

She smiled as she mirrored his position. "That was the idea," she said. "I'll bet I know what your favorite thing about today was."

"I'll bet you don't," Roger countered.

She made a 'you're kidding, right?' face at him. "Oh, come on. I made your _Fabulous Baker Boys _fantasy a reality tonight."

"Yes, you did," Roger said fervently, "and that…**you**…were amazing. It was definitely a highlight. But that wasn't my favorite thing about today."

"Then what was?" she asked.

"That you and Chrissy were there," he replied simply. "Don't get me wrong. The gifts, and the cake, and you as the chanteuse of my dreams were all terrific." He moved closer and pulled her into his arms. "But you and our daughter… The two of you are all I want, and all I will ever want, whether it's a special occasion or just another ordinary day."

She put her arms around his neck. "That works out well, then, since the two of us are kind of mad about you, too," she said before leaning in close to meet his good night kiss.

_**And so ends "Storm." Stay tuned for the sequel, which will be the fourth story in the series, coming soon! **_


End file.
